


The Guardian

by nugget_basket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Complete, Destiel - Freeform, Drama, Fluff, M/M, QUITE A BIT OF SEX, Sex, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nugget_basket/pseuds/nugget_basket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Castiel is a warrior angel, who out of the blue is assigned to be a guardian angel to Dean Winchester. God has great plans for Castiel, but he also plans to teach his arrogant angels a serious lesson about duty, love, and humanity. Also, God ships Destiel. Who'da thought! Rated M just in case it gets smutty later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Castiel

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! So I decided to write this. I’m not too sure where I’m going with it, so please go easy on me xD Comment if you have ideas or anything! Okay so I realised there are a few tense errors (shit) that I can't correct now, so I'm sorry xD I forgot to edit haha

Castiel will always remember when he was created. God told him, ‘ _You are meant for bigger things, Castiel. Follow your own path.’_

There was no real birth. One moment, he wasn’t there and the next moment he was. Cradled in the arms of his Father. Just as a human child would, Castiel grew. He was born as a young man, with just stubs for wings. That was how an angel matured in heaven; as they grew, their wings got bigger and brighter. Castiel often went to see his Father. The other angels were often upset with him as he was always running off to see God, and He never turned him away. Castiel was closest to his Father. Day by day, his wings grew out, from tiny downy feathers at the end of his buds, to huge, glossy wings, that spread out, bristling, flowing, rustling. Castiel was immensely proud of his beautiful wings. Most angels had brightly coloured feathers, but Castiel’s wings were unique. They were not quite black, although at first sight they appeared to be. On closer inspection, his wings were dark hues of indigo, violet, teal and grey. They fluttered together, blending in so perfectly, the overall effect was absolutely lovely. His best friend, Anael, whom he called Anna, took great pleasure in grooming his wings. Castiel himself, was proud of them, and when they finally matured, God called for his presence.

“Castiel.” His Father’s light shone upon him. His voice comforted Castiel, reassuring him. Castiel knelt, his head bowed. “My son. I have work for you.”

Castiel nodded, gravely. “Father, I will do as you ask to the best of my ability.”

“You are to be the guardian angel of a very special child.”

“But Father!” Castiel was puzzled. “I am a warrior, not a guardian angel.”

“This is your destiny, child.” God’s voice whispered in Castiel’s head. “It is time for us both to do what is needed.”

That is how Castiel has come to be standing in the corner of a hospital room. He senses pain, despair and death throughout the building, but in the room he is standing in, in particular, there is overwhelming pride, joy and hope. Castiel drinks in the unfamiliar surroundings and faces, the emotions in the room making him heady. He gazes at the newborn pressed to his mother’s breast with an almost paternal feeling. Stepping closer he presses a calming hand to the pretty young woman, Mary Winchester, who is this child’s mother and fills her with peace. She sighs, and falls asleep, her infant in her arms. A man with black hair walks in and kisses her forehead, before gently taking the baby from her and rocking it, looking into its large green eyes. Castiel knows that this is the father. The guardian angels of both John and Mary are present, and their love and pride too is imminent on their faces. Castiel nods to his brother and sister. John’s angel, Haniel, is a tall thin man with sunny, pastel yellow wings. Castiel knows Mary’s angel, Ambriel, who has a set of shiny, cerulean wings. The difference between the guardian angels and the warrior angels is pronounced. The guardian angels seem to have adopted the characteristics of the humans they care for, with more emotions and expressive features. Their wings, too, are bright.

Castiel’s wings are like the night, and he has been trained as a warrior. He is cold, and distant, able to easily destroy anything in his path. He is not prone to emotions, but for some reason, just being here on Earth, among humans is influencing him.

Castiel has learnt enough about his duties and the rules that even though he was not quite equipped for this task, of being a guardian angel, he knows what to do. There are only two rules to being a guardian angel. Number one, do not step in unless it is an emergency or you are expressly asked, and number two, do not allow yourself to become romantically involved or attached to your charge. Castiel believes he won’t have trouble with either rule.

“Hello, Dean Winchester.” John Winchester, the boy’s father, coos to his child. The baby fixes its eyes on him before letting it wander. Castiel’s brows furrow when the infant’s eyes lock with his, a soft sigh escaping the tiny mouth. Castiel’s mouth smiles back of its own accord.

Ambriel is never far, as she stays nearby Mary most times. “Be free to converse with either myself or Haniel. They cannot hear you.”

For days Castiel remains by the baby’s side, watching it. He is fascinated, having never set foot on Earth before. In Heaven, he spent much of his time being trained by Michael, as a heavenly warrior. Not once did Castiel imagine that he would be caring for a human. Michael often voiced how poorly he thought of perching on a human’s shoulder 24/7. Castiel found it an important job, but he never really thought it was the job for him. It always suited someone else, like Anael, who was by nature caring and maternal.

‘This is my charge.’ Castiel thinks, with no small amount of awe. ‘This is the one I am trusted to protect.’

Trailing a fingertip over baby Dean’s soft, rosy cheek, he is aware of how fragile Dean is. Castiel is extra careful not to wake him, realizing for the first time how beautiful his Father’s creations were. Humans were given life, and in turn nurtured it, helping it to grow, themselves forever growing. Mary Winchester quietly sits at her child’s crib, humming, absolute contentment on her face. Castiel has never really understood humans. He spent millennia in Heaven watching them from a distance. Yet, here he is. Castiel watches Dean sleep, amazed at how much Mary loves her son. It is as powerful and great as the love God has for all his creations, and it humbles Castiel.

He understands now, why God always loved humans so. He said many times that humans were his greatest masterpiece. Castiel sees now, what makes them so different and what makes them so special. Castiel knows everything about humans. He knows the science of what makes them different from the creatures they share the Earth with. Humans are remarkably intelligent. They have opposable thumbs. They feel emotions intensely, due to their extraordinarily developed brains.

But here, Castiel can see the one thing he has never really thought about. Human nature.

He sees the way Mary cares for Dean, with the utmost care and love. As he hovers in the background, he sees the way harried looking passers-by immediately smile the moment they see Dean’s huge toothless smile. He sees the way John watches Dean with a protective pride. Most of all, he sees the hope in the young parents’ eyes, and the guileless joy Dean brings to them.

Castiel begins to love humanity, in the days he spends with Dean as a tiny baby.

‘ _Emergency. Angels, return to heaven immediately.’_ The message comes in to Castiel as he is watching Mary push Dean on a swing. Immediately concerned, Castiel looks at Ambriel. She shrugs, a very human gesture for confusion, and is gone within the blink of an eyes. Castiel vanishes, too quick to see the way Dean’s eyes flick to where he was once standing.

All the angels in Castiel’s garrison are gathered in Michael’s Hall. It is a large, marble structure, not unlike most of the buildings in heaven, but Castiel never took an interest in his leader’s love of Roman style architecture.

Michael stands up in front of all of them. There is complete silence among the angels, as Michael begins to speak. “God…is no longer with us in heaven.”

Gasps and chatter filled the gigantic Hall but as Michael raises his hand, a tense hush spreads over the gathered angels. “All duties will go on, as per normal. We will continue to function as if our Father were still here. Angels with queries or problems are to report to me. As your garrison leader, I take full responsibility for all angels in this garrison. You are dismissed.”

Castiel feels numb. Pushing his way through the crowd, he mentally calls out to his friend. “ _Anael?_ ”

Anael appears in front of him. “Castiel.” She clasps his hands, her fiery wings spreading out and rustling, belying her worry. Castiel’s own feathers are jittery, and Anael reaches out, smoothing his feather gently in the way she knows calms him.

“This worries me, Anna.” Castiel confesses to her.

“It was so sudden.” She remarks. “I spoke to him only a week ago, after you left.”

“A week?” Castiel asks, his wings folding themselves into his back. “It has been close to three months since I left heaven.”

“Time moves differently here, Castiel.” Anael reminds him, gently. “You must go now. I believe your charge has been one day without you already in the moments you have spent here.”

Castiel squeezes Anael’s hands, then disappears back to Dean’s side.

It is midday and Dean is playing on the floor of the living room, giggling to himself as he tries to stuff a toy car into his mouth while his mother reads her book. Castiel kneels on the floor next to the child and watches, letting his wings stretch before folding them comfortably against his back. Dean’s eyes widen and he reaches out a chubby hand to Castiel.

Castiel frowns. “Can he see me?”

Ambriel doesn’t seem too concerned. “It appears he can.” She smiles at Castiel reassuringly. “He will grow out of it. Some children are able to see angels.”

 Castiel lets Dean grasp one of his fingers, smiling as the child chuckles to himself. Mary looks up, smiling at her son, before scooping him up.

“C’mon baby, time for your nap.”

Castiel stands at the edge of the room, watching over Dean as he sleeps.

“Can he see you?” He asks Ambriel, who has become his unofficial teacher and mentor.

“It appears not.” She says, puzzled. “Only you.”

Looking over, into his crib, Castiel watches him. He notes every flutter of Dean’s closed eyelids. He smiles at the saliva bubbles Dean blows in his sleep. He strokes Dean’s hair when he cries out. Castiel is surprised at the love that swells his heart and sends his wings arching high as he cares for Dean.

_____________________________________________

 

God sees his creations and smiles. All is good. It’s about time he taught his angels a valuable lesson.

Castiel would be the cornerstone. God has great plans for that angel of his.

And it all starts with Dean Winchester.


	2. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's earliest memories, all involve a dark haired stranger with blue eyes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated :] thanks for reading!

Dean’s earliest memories are of singing to Sammy. As a bumbling two year old, he remembers his pudgy hands clinging to the bars of Sam’s crib while he looked through with wonder and pride at being a big brother. Another fragment of memory that Dean remembers is riding around on Dad’s shoulders, laughing manically, and clinging to his dark hair.

Throughout all these memories, a tall, solemn man with the most beautiful blue eyes Dean loves to stare into, with huge wings that remind Dean of the night sky, stands sentry. Dean is so used to him, that it doesn’t occur that this is not normal. He only begins speaking to the tall man when Mom and Dad have to rush to the hospital because Sammy is sick.

“We’ll be back in a couple hours son.” Dad says to Dean, fluffing his soft blonde hair. They whirl out the door, and Dean is left alone in a dark house. He doesn’t want to admit it, but there is a storm raging outside and he is scared. To him, the dark holds terror, and the unknown. Creeping up the stairs, Dean gets back into his new big boy bed, and tries to sleep. Out of the corner of his eyes, he detects a movement in the shadows. Imagination running wild, Dean pulls his knees up to his chest and throws the blanket over his head, as if it would protect him.

“Fear not.” A deep, gravelly voice assures him. “It is me.”

Dean peeks out, relieved to see the man with the blue eyes.

“You scared me!” He accused, in a high, childish voice.

The man bows his head slightly. “My apologies.”

Dean doesn’t really understand what ‘apologies’ means but he understands the man is sorry for scaring him. A flash of lightning illuminates the man’s features for a moment. It is followed seconds later by a massive clap of thunder, and Dean cries out, instinctively pressing his palms to his ears.

“You are scared of thunder?”

“I’m not scared of anything.” Dean says, stubbornly.

“I see.” The man’s voice sounds amused.

Dean suddenly recalls what his mother always told him. ‘Angels are watching over you.’

“My name is Dean Winchester and I’m five and a half years old.” Dean tells the man.

“Hello, Dean. My name is Castiel.”

His mother had always told him angels had fluffy white wings, and this man had dark wings.

“Are you an angel?” Dean asks.

“Yes, I am your guardian angel, Dean.”

“How come your wings aren’t white?”

Castiel laughs gently, a warm, inviting sound. Dean is starting to get sleepy.

“Not all angels have white wings, Dean.”

Yawning, Dean cuddles close to Castiel, fingers in his mouth. “Night Cas.” He mumbles around his fingers. He feels the soft weight of Castiel’s wings around him.

That is how Dean sleeps for the next ten years, until he decides he is no longer a small child.

At 8 years old, Dean plays at the playground with his friend, Jo.

“Jo?”

“Yeah?” She flicks blond hair out of her eyes and digs into the sand in the sandbox with practiced determination.

“Do you have an angel?”

Jo looks up, genuinely confused. “I don’t think so…”

Dean looks beyond her to where Castiel stands, watching. He is still in that suit and trench coat ensemble, and Dean thinks it must be hot under all that layers, what with it being summer in Lawrence.

Jo turns, shading her eyes. “What’re you looking at, Dean?”

That is the moment where it first occurs to Dean that he might be special, to have Castiel, and at that age, the idea brings him great joy. Throwing a grin at Castiel, he turns to Jo, leaning in secretively. “I have an angel. His name is Castiel.”

“Like the poem!” Jo nods enthusiastically.

“Huh?”

“In the poem, Castiel is the Angel of Thursdays!”

Dean brightens. “I told you! He’s my very own angel.”

Dean looks up to make sure Castiel is still there. Dean is bemused to see Castiel angling towards someone who isn’t there, his mouth moving, as if he was talking to himself.

Later, once Dean is in bed, safe in his angel’s arms, Dean grills Castiel on it.

“Cas, who were you talking to?”

Castiel pauses. “I was speaking to the guardian angel of your mother. Her name is Ambriel.”

“How come I can’t see her? And how come other people can’t see you?”

“You can see me because I’m your guardian angel. No one else can.”

“Then how come other people can’t see their own angels?” Dean quizzes.

“You are special Dean.” Castiel answers.

“I am?” Dean is pleased.

“Yes. But we must keep this a secret between us.”

“Oh. Okay.” Dean agrees, partly because he is too sleepy to think of a reason why he shouldn’t.

“I love you, Cas.”

Castiel stiffens, then pulls Dean closer. “I…I love you too, Dean.”

“I’m real lucky I got an angel like you.”

Dean falls asleep as Castiel sings to him softly in what Castiel calls Enochian. Castiel once said it was the language of the angels. “Night Cas.” Dean mutters as he slips into slumber.

The next day when he tells Mom about her angel, Ambriel, Mom starts crying and hugs Dean close, mumbling how beautiful that was and how special he was.

At fifteen, Dean is starting to become broad shouldered, his features becoming more masculine. He reads, plays football and teases his little brother endlessly.

“Hey Cas.” Dean groans and shoves his book bag onto the floor.

“How was school, Dean?” Castiel asks, conversationally.

Dean rolls his eyes. “School is school Cas. It doesn’t really change from day to day.”

“I see.”

“What’d you do today?” Dean asks, sitting on the bed, pulling off his sneakers.

“I travelled the Earth.” Castiel tells him.

“Okay.” Dean huffs a laugh. He is long used to Castiel’s weirdness. Castiel’s weirdness, to him is comfortable. It is like home, and he likes it. Reaching out to tug at Castiel’s trench coat, he grins. “Dude, guess what.”

Castiel just stares at him with his head cocked to the side, that says he is confused by Dean’s human intricacies.

Dean smacks his head, and sighs. “I’m asking Jo out, tomorrow.”

Castiel nods. “That is good, Dean. She is a lovely girl.”

“Do you think she’ll say yes?” Dean nudges Castiel. “Do your angel mojo will ya?”

Castiel shakes his head. “That is meant for emergencies only, Dean. However, based on my observation of your friendship with her, she appears to like you. You may have a good chance with her.”

“Dude, you said that about Pamela.” Dean groans. “You were so wrong.”

“My apologies, Dean, I am not yet used to the way humans communicate with each other.”

“Then how would you know Jo likes me?”

“Her soul lights up when you are around.” Castiel explains.

Dean’s eyes widen, the green lightening with pleasure. “Really? You can see souls?”

Castiel nods.

“What does mine look like?” Dean asks, eagerly.

Castiel can never refuse his charge. “You are bright, Dean. Your soul glows. It is one of the most beautiful things I have seen.”

Dean’s features soften and he looks into Castiel’s blue eyes for a moment before looking away abruptly, covering it up with a laugh. “Dude, that is so soppy. But thanks, I guess.”

“Dean!” Mom calls up the stairs. “Dinner!”

Dean straightens, and throws a grin at his angel. “That’s my cue, Cas.” By habit, he reaches over and runs his hand down Castiel’s great, soft wings that trail the floor of his bedroom. “Laters, Cas.”

Dean stopped saying he loved Castiel as soon as he turned 12. Castiel was just his weirdo angel friend. It would be weird to tell him he loved him. He barely even told his parents he loved them.

“Hey bitch.” Dean locks Sam’s head in his elbow and rubs his knuckles over his scalp.

“Ow!” Sam gives him his bitch-face as soon as he is released from Dean’s grip. “Jerk!”

Sam is still tiny, and Dean’s recent growth spurt gives him an added advantage over his little brother.

“Boys.” Dad calls out. “Dinnertime. Get a move on will ya?”

Dean kisses his mother’s cheek. “Heya mom.”

“Set the table will you, honey?”

Dean obliges, and soon they’re all seated around the dining table.

Dad picks at his food. “Mary this is all rabbit food and cardboard.”

Mom gives him a reproachful glance. “John, this is what people eat after they’ve had a heart attack.”

“The doctor said it was minor.” Dad rolls his eyes, chewing on a carrot.

“He also said it might be more serious next time if you’re not careful.” Mom glared at him. “Please don’t worry the boys.”

Dad glances at his quiet sons. “I’ll be fine boys. Don’t worry about your ol’ dad.” He grins at Dean, and the grin Dean returns is pained and full of worry.

Later that night, he goes to bed early to have his nightly chat with Castiel. He’d asked his Mom to bring a rocking chair into his room, not telling her that it was for Castiel. Now, Castiel was rocking gently, reading one of the literary classics that Dean was assigned to read for school.

“Hey Cas.”

Castiel puts down the book and stares intently at Dean. “Hello, Dean.”

“Cas, is my Dad gonna be okay?” Dean asks, biting his lip.

Castiel is silent for a moment then looks at Dean. “I have spoken with Haniel, his angel. He is healthy, do not worry.”

Dean sighs, relieved. “Thanks, man.”

Castiel places a calming hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Do not worry, Dean. I would never allow harm to come to you.”

Dean throws his arms around Castiel, hugging him tight. For a moment the angel is still, and Dean fears he has done something wrong, but then, Castiel is hugging him back, and Dean’s mind goes blank. Castiel rocks him, gently, until he falls asleep, then the last thing Dean remembers is being gently laid on his bed, before everything goes dark.

 


	3. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's take on life with Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated! I love to hear from you guys so, if you got any ideas, feel free to bounce em off me! :D

Castiel feels honoured to have witnessed two births first-hand as Mary cradles her second son, whom she decides to call Samuel Winchester.

 _Cas, is Mommy okay?_ Dean prays to him, and Castiel can feel the worry swirling within his young charge.

 _She is fine, Dean. As is your new brother._ Castiel assures him.

“Castiel!” A new voice calls out to Castiel, and he knows it is neither Haniel nor Ambriel, who is hovering over Mary, bringing her peace and comfort.

“Gadreel?” Castiel turns to see his brother. Gadreel was in the same garrison as he was, and they had been as close as was possible given that they were from different ranks.

“Were you not a Power? What are you doing here, as a lowly angel?”Gadreel asks.

Castiel stares at him. Gadreel does not mean to be blunt or mean, he is simply asking a question to which he is curious about. Castiel lowers his eyes to Gadreel’s sneakers. “God put me here. There must be a reason.”

“Of course.” Gadreel smiles. “Our Father must have a different path for you.” Gadreel speaks reverently, unaware of how much Castiel misses heaven and his duties as a warrior, bearer of conscience and keeper of history. Gadreel’s lovely turquoise wings flutter in happiness as he looks upon his charge.

Later, when Castiel once more has Dean snuggled up in his warmth, Ambriel appears in the room. She looks upon them with conflict in her gaze.

“Castiel.”

“Ambriel.” Castiel murmurs, so soft, only another angel would hear it.

“Your relationship with him has progressed, I see.” Ambriel sounds concerned. “He has not grown out of it yet?”

“Not yet, Ambriel.”

“I fear he may be affected…due to the nature of his relationship with you.”

“There is nothing wrong in the love a guardian has for his charge.” Castiel is on the defensive.

“I know, Castiel, but keep this from Haniel.” Ambriel mutters urgently. “He will not look kindly upon the proximity of your relationship with Dean. He is a traditionalist, always following the rules set out by the Seraphim and the Archangels, but forgetting what our Lord has said to us: To love humanity as he does.” With this monologue, Ambriel vanishes and Castiel rests his cheek on Dean’s soft hair. She was simply concerned for him, and Castiel knows better than to ignore her advice.

Castiel watches 8 year old Dean play in the sandbox with his little friend, Joanna Harvelle. Joanna’s angel is nearby, in the form of a young woman whom Castiel recognizes as Theliel. Castiel turns to Ambriel. “Dean can still see me.”

“I know.” Ambriel smiles. “I sometimes wish Mary could see me.”

“Why?” Castiel asks.

“She wonders sometimes, when  money is scarce or when her husband is ill, if there is anything at all looking out for her.” Ambriel’s wings sag, with the sadness she cannot otherwise express. “I would like her to know that I am always by her side.”

“Dean never doubts that I am with him.” Castiel smiles. “He prays to me when I am not there.”

“Perhaps it is better for him this way.” Ambriel places a motherly hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “He will never doubt.”

“Dean is not one for blind faith.” Castiel sighs. “Even as a child, he did not believe me when I said there was nothing in his closet. I always had to open the door, switch on the light, and show him.”

“Mary is the one with faith. It is the quality that keeps her going strong. That, and her love for her family.” Ambriel sighs.

“What is it?”

“Seeing them, I…You may think this is blasphemy, but I often wish I had the same choice they do.”

“You wish to have a family?” Castiel asks, confused.

“Well, yes, I suppose.” Ambriel looks up at the sky in fear, before casting a glance at Castiel’s serene face. His lack of a reaction seems to calm her.

“I do not consider that blasphemy.” Castiel hesitates. “All of God’s creatures were to have free will, but with the Seraphim have restricted it so.”

“I dare not voice my wants sometimes.” Ambriel’s wings dance with worry, anger and longing. “Mere angels are we.”

Castiel simply stares at Dean.

The next day, Ambriel comes to Castiel, her normally placid wings alight with great joy. Ambriel wraps her wings around Castiel and presses her forehead to his, in a show of trust and thanks. “Mary prayed to me!” Ambriel’s eyes lit up with love. “She asked me to protect her and her family. She called me by name, Castiel!”

Castiel smiles at her. “Dean.”

Ambriel pulls away. “You take care of that child of yours, Castiel. Many thanks.” With that, Ambriel is gone, and Castiel is left with a warm pride for his human.

At 10, Dean is fascinated with Castiel’s wings. Every night, he runs his hands down Castiel’s feathers, which brings Castiel peace. Dean cannot sleep without Castiel singing to him every night, and refuses to fall asleep until Castiel’s wings are wrapped around him. Castiel feels pride as Dean grows, and Dean asks him no questions until he turns 13.

Castiel is sitting in his rocking chair as Dean reads. Suddenly, Dean snaps his book closed, and looks up at Castiel with a light in his eyes that Castiel knows to be a mixture of curiosity and determination.

“Cas.”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Tell me about angels.” Dean bounces off his bed and climbs onto Castiel’s lap.

“You’re getting heavy.” Castiel teases him. “What would you like to know?”

“Are there other angels?” Dean asks.

“Many, Dean. There are as many angels as there are stars in this galaxy and that of those beyond it.”

Dean’s eyes become big and round. “That many?”

“Yes.” Castiel continues. “There are 3 classes of angels in heaven, 3 different spheres.”

Dean says nothing, waiting for Castiel to continue.

“The first sphere has the Seraphim, the Cherubim and the Ophanim. The second sphere has the Dominions, Virtues and Powers. The third sphere has the Principalities, Archangels and the Angels.”

Dean turns in Castiel’s lap, and looks up at him. “What’s the difference between all of them?”

“Well, that’s the hierarchy in heaven. The first sphere handles matters of heaven. They are closely connected with God.” Castiel explains. “The second sphere rules over the cosmos, the worlds. Dominions preside over nations, Virtues make sure the cosmos stay in order. I think you will find the Virtues interesting. They pave the way of the stars and the galaxies and always ensure that the universe is in balance.”

“So they make sure nothing bad happens?” Dean asks.

Castiel hesitates. “No, not necessarily. There must be a balance between good and bad, and that is what the Virtues ensure.”

“What about Powers?” Dean asked.

Castiel is pleased to note that his charge is listening. “I used to be a Power. We are the warriors of Light.  Our main duty is to oversee the authority and the distribution of power on Earth, but we are loyal to God. We do whatever He asks of us.”

“Why are you here then?” Dean asks.

“God told me I was meant to be your guardian angel, Dean.”

“Yeah, but if you wanted to be a warrior, up there, then why let God just boss you around?” Dean rolls his eyes.

Castiel ruffles Dean’s hair. “It’s not quite so simple. God has a plan for us Dean, and if we run away from that plan, it only causes hurt to us. He only wants us to be happy.”

“Are you happy? Down here, with me?”

“I am, Dean.” Castiel says, with no hesitation whatsoever. He knows he is happy with his charge. He loves Dean with everything he has, and there is nothing he would not do to keep Dean safe.

“Tell me about the Archangels.” Dean pokes Castiel.

“There are seven. Raphael, Michael, Gabriel, Chamuel, Uriel, Jophiel and Raguel. Michael is the leader of my garrison.”

“I’ve only ever heard of Michael and Gabriel. Michael is God’s sword and Gabriel is God’s messenger, right?”

A spark of delight sends Castiel’s wings aflutter. “You’ve been reading the bible, like I told you?”

Dean grins. “Of course.” He reaches over and smooths Castiel’s feathers down. “You’re happy.”

Castiel’s wings flutter even more, but with a loving smile, as he strokes Dean’s hair, he goes on. “Raphael is the angel of healing. Chamuel is the angel of love and peace. Uriel is the angel of light. Jophiel is the angel of beauty and Raguel is the angel of justice.”

“Do you know all of them?”

“I know Michael and Chamuel. Michael is righteous and strong, an example for all warriors. Chamuel is brave and loving. He is different from the archangels in that he loves humanity with all his heart.”

“The other archangels don’t love humanity?” Dean asks, puzzled.

“They love God first. They only love humans due to God’s love for them.”

“What about Lucifer? Were you there when he fell?”

Castiel winces. “It was painful for all of us. He was my brother.”

Dean quiets. Putting his arms around Castiel, he whispers. “You have me now, too Cas.”

“Thank you Dean.” Castiel wraps his arms around his human and hugs him close. In the years he has spent with the Winchesters, he has found that this is a common show of love, kindness and forgiveness among humans in general, and it often serves to comfort Dean during a thunderstorm when he is afraid or anxious.

“I love you, Cas.” Dean’s voice is muffled into Castiel’s trenchcoat, but the words still make Castiel’s grace pulse and swirl within him.

“I love you too, Dean.”

“You won’t ever leave me, will you Cas? Never, ever?”

“Never, Dean.”

“We’re best friends forever, right Cas?”

“Yes, Dean. We are best friends…forever.” Castiel cannot remember when, but Dean has changed him. Perhaps it was when he cuddled up to Castiel for comfort during the thunderstorm when he was home alone. Perhaps it was when he first stared at Castiel with those huge green eyes while clinging to his mother. Perhaps it was when Dean first told him he loved Castiel.

Either way, Castiel loves him, and something inside him feels different.

________________________________________________

 

So it begins. God stretches out the fingers of the body he has sculpted for himself. He likes being among his creations. He loves them, and watches them walk along the streets they have built. He watches them smile at each other, laugh, and play. He watches them comfort each other, and take hope in the beginning of each new day.

Castiel will soon learn what his destiny is. He will soon find out what God made him for.

God can’t wait.


	4. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets two shocks, both very different, both pretty major.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments etc are much appreciated!

“I broke up with Jo.” Dean says to Castiel, gruffly.

 Seventeen has brought with it even more pronounced changes to Dean’s body, and his voice has deepened. In the shower, Dean looks at himself in the mirror sometimes, and frowns. Part of him is excited at the new, masculine changes that make his old, gangly body, tight, and graceful. The rest of him misses the innocence he used to have. He can’t be the little kid who crawls into Castiel’s lap for a good story or curls up next to Castiel to go to sleep. Now, when Dean falls asleep, Castiel leaves to go do his angel stuff, or fly around somewhere. He never leaves for long though. Dean’s always glad to see him come back, and he misses him when he’s gone for more than a day.

“Why?” Castiel asks curiously, the blue flames that are his eyes burning into Dean’s own green ones.

Dean just shrugs.

“It has been a year has it not?” Castiel murmurs, rocking back in his chair. It was kinda old now, and Mom wanted to remove it but there was no way Dean’d let her. Castiel loved that chair.

“Yeah, if you don’t count the year she made me wait for her without dating anyone else, cause she was ‘too _young_.’” Dean shakes his head.

“You are upset.” Castiel’s wings flutter distractingly, and Dean finds he can’t concentrate. He can’t very well tell him that every time he looked into Jo’s brown eyes, he couldn’t help wishing they were a deep soulful blue. He can barely even talk to Castiel right now, because he knows he can’t say anything without arousing Castiel’s suspicions.

“Of course I’m upset Cas. What part of ‘I broke up with Jo’ do you not understand?” Dean says exasperatedly.

Castiel’s face doesn’t change, but his wings ruffle with what Dean recognizes as confusion and concern. That’s how well he knows his angel. Dean sighs. “I’m gonna go shower.”

Dean shucks off his clothes in the hallway bathroom that he shares with Sam. Running the hot water in the shower, Dean inhales the steam that rises, making the little bathroom like a sauna. Ducking into the shower, Dean hangs his head, letting the pellets of water wet his hair, closing his eyes. Finally! He could use the time to think.

It wasn’t like this was definitely not going to happen right? You don’t spend that much time with a guy without developing something in the way of…feelings. _Feelings._ Dean shudders at the thought. Do angels even have romantic inclinations? Castiel never spoke of other girl angels or boy angels, or whatever the hell he was into, to Dean the way Dean talked about girls to Castiel.

When did this even happen anyway? Dean presses two palms to the slicked shower wall in front of him and tries to breathe. _Goddammit._

What was he even going to do about it? Dean curses, as he soaps himself efficiently and quickly. Sammy will throw a bitch fit if he spends too much time in here. Dean brings his attention back to the current problem. He likes his guardian angel. Oh god, he’s an awful person. He’s going to hell. _Hell would be well worth it if you got to kiss those pink lips of his._ That traitorous voice deep in the more animalistic part of his brain pipes up, and groaning at the mere mention of that damn angel’s lips, Dean shuts it down almost immediately. ‘This is so sacrilegious.’ Dean thinks, both irritated and turned on.

Dean is sixteen when he first realizes just how beautiful Castiel is. It’s his birthday party. Mom made a big production over it, saying it was his sweet sixteen or whatever, and she invited all his friends over. They’re all here, all the people Dean loves. Ash, Chuck and Jo, his best friends, Bobby, Sam, Mom and Dad, his family, and finally Castiel standing in a dark corner of the room. Dean only spares a glance for the blue eyes that watch him intently, before turning his attention back to the huge chocolate cake that is in front of him. It’s pretty dark considering it’s the middle of the day, and the candles glow brightly. As his friends and family sing the birthday song, Dean watches the flames of the candle flicker and burn, and for a moment, Dean swears he sees them turn a cold, amazing blue. It’s unreal, out of this world, and for a second, time slows. Dean’s eyes flick to Castiel’s and he knows it is Castiel’s doing; the blue flames that danced for a moment were the exact colour of Castiel’s wonderful eyes.

Castiel gives him a small, lovely smile and Dean smiles back. His angel is beautiful, face slightly illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the cracks in the translucent curtains, shadows cast over his face. His wings are something else altogether. They flutter lightly with pride, love and euphoria, and seem to glow with a light of their own. The various hues in his wings are obvious, but at the same time, his wings are like a one, unique colour all on their own. Dean is captivated, but as soon as a cheer goes up, the spell is broken, and Dean is pulled back to his family and friends shouting at him to blow the candles. As Dean blows all the candles out in one, prolonged expulsion of air, his mind goes blank. He was going to wish for a car or a TV in his room, but he looks at Castiel and wishes for nothing, because he has everything.

“What’d you wish for Dean?” Jo asks, as Mom cuts into the cake.

“Can’t tell, sweetheart.” Dean throws her a casual wink. “Or it won’t come true.”

Jo blushes. Ash rolls his eyes and groans. “Okay guys, stop flirting. Dean, let’s go open your presents.”

The rest of the evening is pretty much a blur for Dean until he takes Jo out to a secluded part of the woods behind their house. They hang around until Dean, summoning up his courage, asks Jo for the second, and he hopes the last, time. “Jo, will you be my girlfriend?” Mercifully this time she agrees.

“Sure Dean.” Jo flips her blonde hair and slips her arms around his neck.

Dean knows what she wants, but for some reason he can’t really identify, he’s hesitant. She looks up at him expectantly. Slowly, Dean dips his head and presses his lips to her cherry lip glossed ones. It’s a little weird, with the sweet, sticky lip gloss, but after a while Dean gets into it. He’s kind of figured the mechanics out by now, what with all the TV he watches, but the real thing is different. His last thought before they pull away is that there is just something _missing_. But, by then, Jo is staring up at him with what could be nothing less than worship in her chocolate eyes, and Dean doesn’t have the heart to crush her like that and he leans down for another kiss.

Later, as he gets into bed, as usual, Castiel appears in the rocking chair only inches away from his bd for their usual conversation.

“That was a cool trick by the way.” Dean comments as he pulls the covers up to his chest. “With the candles.”

Castiel’s face is expressionless, save for a tiny, smug smile, but his wings arch higher and shake lightly before folding up again, in a way that screams ‘I’m crazy proud of myself, but trying to be humble.’

“I thought you would like it.” Castiel replies.

“I did.” Dean murmurs. “It was awesome. You’re awesome Cas.”

Castiel’s wings still in surprise then flutter like they always do when Castiel is happy.

Clearing his throat, Dean desperately moves from the chick flick moment. “I kissed Jo today. I guess she’s my girlfriend now.”

Castiel’s blue eyes ice over with something Dean cannot for the life of him figure out. His lovely wings become stock-still, folding tightly against his back. “Oh.”

“Cas? Something wrong?” Dean asks, worried.

“No.” Castiel disappears and Dean is left confused. Worse still, he feels a sudden emptiness and ache, and he can’t understand it. So he calls Jo. Later Castiel appears and tells him it was an ‘angel situation’, but it isn’t convincing enough. Dean says nothing, and Castiel seems grateful. They continue as per normal.

That was it. Dean, seventeen and matured now, sighs. His sixteenth birthday. A sudden flare of hope burns in his heart. Castiel’s eyes had darkened…perhaps it had been jealousy or sadness. Dean doesn’t care. It means something, he knows it.

Perhaps his wildest dreams could come true….Dean’s almost afraid to believe it, as he steps out of the shower and into an old band tee and boxers.

Making his way down to dinner, almost antsy with the things that he wants to tell Castiel, Dean sits down next to Sam.

Mom seems worried, her fingers tapping on the dining table as she holds a phone to her ear. She puts it down and bites her lip, eyes on Dean but not really seeing him.

“Mom?” Dean waves in front of her glazed eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh, Dean…yes it should be…it’s just your father isn’t home yet. He’s not usually this late. I don’t know what could have possibly happened to him.” Mom jumps when the phone rings and presses it to her ear, a relieved smile on her face.

Sam raises and eyebrow at Dean and he shrugs.

“John, where are you? I-oh. Hello, Bobby, is everything okay? …What? Oh my god…Okay, okay I’m on my way, I’ll be right there.” Mom slams the phone down onto the table and looks around, eyes wild.

“Mom?” Dean reaches out to her. “Everything okay?”

“Dean, honey, your father, he’s um…he’s in the hospital honey.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Sam pipes up.

“Hush now, Sammy, Mom, go get your wallet and coat, I’ll drive you there.” Dean tells her. “Uncle Bobby can come and look after Sam.”

Mom nods. “I…yes. Thank you honey.”

“Sure, Mom.”

The car journey to the hospital is a silent one. Dean knows the hopelessness of the situation as soon as he sets eyes on the doctor’s face. He shakes his head at Dean with an apologetic look, his haggard face downcast. Dean feels numb and in shock. He barely listens as the doctor describes the situation.

“He’s in a medically induced coma.” The doctor explains. “He suffered a huge cardiac arrest. You must understand, we’re doing all we can, but there is not a very big chance that he will wake up…”

The rest of the medical jargon that the doctor spouts goes through Dean’s ears without him really hearing it. Mom is crying, and Dean knows he should comfort her, but he is too lost in his own grief. He’s lost; he’s drowning in a darkness without any stars, and the spark of hope that Dad might still wake up is more painful than it is comforting. Dean makes his way over to Dad’s side, and watches his chest rise and fall as the oxygen mask mists up. Dean places a palm on his chest, feeling the evidence that Dad is still alive, that it isn’t over yet. The tears come, hot and prickly, without Dean even knowing.

 


	5. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So...sigh. Heartache, man. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this new chapter xD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated!

Dean does not know this, but Castiel always returns late at night or in the early hours of the morning, when he knows Dean is asleep. He ruffles his wings, seats himself in the rocking chair, and watches his charge sleep. Gadreel often asks about the nature of his friendship with Dean, and Castiel tells him Dean is his charge. Nothing less. Castiel worries sometimes, at the suspicions in Gadreel’s steely eyes, but he ignores it. In the wee hours of the morning, Castiel watches Dean sleep, and his worries melt away. Dean always looks beautiful and peaceful when he’s sleeping. His face is relaxed and his eyelashes dark against his freckled skin. Castiel looks into his soul  when he’s sleeping, letting tendrils of his grace reach into Dean’s soul, filling them both with peace and love. Dean’s soul is a pure white, intertwined with violet and gold. It shows Castiel how pure Dean is, how full of love and strength.

Dean’s soul is exquisite, and Castiel _wants_. He’s petrified of how much he wants and needs Dean. He has always loved Dean, but he falls in love at Dean’s birthday party. Dean is watching the candles flicker, so Castiel makes them burn blue briefly, and Dean looks up. That radiant smile spreads over his face, and Castiel smiles back. Dean’s soul glows, as he looks at Castiel, and the look in his eyes excites and terrifies Castiel. There is something foreign swirling within his grace, and Castiel takes a moment to pick it apart.

He realizes at that moment that what he feels for Dean is more than what a guardian angel is supposed to feel for his charge. It doesn’t strike him that it’s wrong at first, what Castiel first thinks is how amazing it feels. ‘This is what love feels like…’ He thinks. His wings arch high, and spread out to their full length, and an overwhelming awe fills Castiel. It feels wonderful, pleasant, and so right. Perhaps Dean feels the same way. Perhaps…Castiel’s wings rustle and flap in hope.

“Castiel.” Ambriel’s wings are worried, and her lips are pursed.

Castiel fold his wings back in place. “Ambriel.”

“You cannot hide this from heaven, Castiel.” Ambriel whispers, urgently, eyes flicking around the room urgently, to make sure neither Gadreel nor Haniel can hear them.

“Please, Ambriel.” Castiel’s grace cringes. He had not considered heaven in the moment of his revelation.

“Castiel, I believe in free will.” Ambriel takes his hands in hers. Castiel is grateful for her; she has taken a mother-like role to Castiel with joy. “Haniel and Gadreel must not come to know of it.”

Castiel nods. Ambriel presses her forehead to Castiel’s. “Thank you, Ambriel.”

“Take care, Castiel. If you are gone, you will be replaced…Dean would not appreciate that.”

Castiel smiles reluctantly. It is not an option to leave Dean. He would rather lie to his brothers and sisters than leave Dean.

Later that night, Dean reveals of his kiss with Jo, and if Castiel had a heart, it would have broken. Instead, his wings tighten against his back, and there is something dark tainting his grace. ‘Jealousy.’ Castiel thinks, bitterly. He flies, faster than the speed of light, to one of his favourite places, one completely untouched by man. He stands in the middle of an ice cave in the Antarctic. It was a lot bigger when the world was first created. Light filters through small holes in the cave, casting a surreal blue light in the cave. Castiel never tires of the sublime beauty of the ice caves. Antarctica is barren and unforgiving but so very beautiful, and Castiel loves it. Thousands of icy stalactites surround him, and Castiel holds his palm out underneath one, letting water drip onto his hand. He puts it to his mouth, tasting the purity and cleanliness of the water. It reminds him of Dean’s soul: sweet, pure, untainted.

He returns that night to watch Dean sleep. He is sleeping fitfully, a frown on his face. Castiel sighs, and places a hand on Dean’s head to calm him, but Dean yelps and sits up in bed, scrambling away from Castiel.

“Dude!” Dean gasps. “What the hell! Your hand is cold!”

Castiel stares at his hand. Oh yes, he must have forgotten to let it warm up a little after his trip to the Antarctic.

“My apologies, Dean.” Castiel bows his head.

“Cas, man, what’s wrong?” Dean sighs, wrapping his arms around his knees.

Castiel doesn’t meet Dean’s eyes. “I had urgent business to attend to.”

Dean is silent, and Castiel raises his head, expecting the disbelief in those green eyes. What he didn’t expect was the hurt and guilt that lay behind them. Dean nodded. “Sure…yeah.”

Dean lies back down and turns over, facing away from Castiel, and he sits in the rocking chair.

The air feels heavy with all that is left unsaid.

Castiel avoids Dean when he knows Jo is over at the Winchester house. Instead, he chats with Gadreel while they watch Sam do his homework.

“Was he ever able to see you?” Castiel asks Gadreel.

“No.” Gadreel answers. “Haniel told me it is not unheard of for babies to be able to see angels, but it does not happen most of the time.”

Sam sighs in frustration, throwing his pen down on his table as he leans back in his chair. Gadreel moves forward, and with the utmost tenderness, presses a calming hand to Sam’s shoulder. Slowly, Sam’s breathing steadies, and with an inspired chuckle, throws himself back into his work.

Gadreel grins at his charge, and smiles at Castiel. “They grow up so fast.”

“Where did you hear that?” Castiel cocks his head.

“It is said by nearly every parent of the children I have been a guardian angel to.” Gadreel tells Castiel.

“Hmm.” Castiel mumurs, uninterestedly.

“They always do though. Time flows so quickly here.” Gadreel mutters.

“I do not go back to heaven much. I prefer to stay with Dean.” Castiel shrugs.

Gadreel gives him a look. “You seem very close with him.”

“It is difficult to avoid as he can see me. He never grew out of it.”

“That is rather strange.”

“Dean is special.” Castiel says, in a hard gravelly voice, one that is meant to say, ‘This conversation is over.’

Gadreel thankfully gets it.

 

They spend days in the hospital, waiting for John to get better, but it isn’t going to happen.

“There is no chance.” Haniel confides in Ambriel, Gadreel and Castiel. “I can see it happening already. Sooner or later, everything will be over.”

“What will happen to you?” Castiel asks.

“I will go back to heaven and be drafted to a new human.” Haniel sighs. “This is most definitely the hardest part of being a guardian. Humans are not immortal, and one can never protect them from everything. It is part of the balance of the world.”

The four angels disperse and do not speak again, watching Haniel as he takes away as much of the pain as possible from John. Castiel knows he is trying to make his final moments as comfortable as possible. He can already see John’s soul prepare to leave its mortal vessel. In moments of death, the soul becomes brighter and swirls with stronger colour. It is in preparation of the ascension to heaven. Right now, Castiel can see that John’s soul is ready.

“Please do something Cas.” Dean pleads in a desolated corner of the hospital, which he summoned Castiel to. “Please.”

“I cannot, Dean.” Castiel murmurs, arms held out to Dean. “I am unable to stop these things. It is his time.”

“Castiel you promised.” Dean’s eyes are wet, and tears are running down his face. It hurts Castiel to see him like this, and to know that he is unable to do anything about it. “You promised you’d never let anything hurt me…please, don’t let them, don’t let them take my Dad away from me, please.” Dean is close to incoherent, and as Castiel circles his arms around his charge, Dean shoves him away, eyes cold.

“You promised, you bastard!” Dean yells, uncaring of his surroundings.

Castiel hangs his head, wings limp. “I am sorry, Dean. But this is beyond my power.”

“Fuck you. Fuck God, and fuck all you angels.” Dean hisses, stomping away.

Castiel watches him go, with a heavy sigh. Dean is hurting, it’s perfectly normal. Castiel feels useless, and this is one of the defining moments of his faith. He wonders for a moment if God is really there, and if he is, why he would let this happen to Dean. The moment is soon gone, but it happened. Castiel knows how God works. There is a balance that must be kept in the world, and death is part of the natural cycle, but it is different when it hits close to home. It is easy to remain objective about it until you experience it, and finally Castiel understands it. It does not, however, ease the ache.

Haniel finds Castiel in the corridor of the hospital, right outside John’s room. His sagging wings say everything.

“My duty here is over, Castiel.” Haniel’s ragged voice causes Castiel to place a hand on his shoulder, in a helpless gesture of comfort. Haniel sighs. “It is over.” Haniel vanishes, leaving Castiel to walk into John’s room, as a doctor notes the time of death. Dean doesn’t acknowledge him. He is kneeling at John’s bed, an arm around his mother, while Sam sobs into John’s arm. Mary is pale, leaning against her son, eyes wide and unfocused. She is so far gone, she isn’t even crying.

Ambriel is at Mary’s side, arms around her. She looks at Castiel and he can see everything in her gaze. He knows because he feels it too. There is nothing they can do except provide comfort, and it never seems to be enough.

How can it be enough? The dead leave the living to continue on in their absence. Castiel can tell Dean that there is now a special part of heaven in which John resides. That he continues to watch over them. But what good would that do? The problem is that the living never stop loving their departed loved ones. Already Castiel can see that the love Mary, Sam and Dean have for their father is a great weight, crushing them with its intensity.

‘What one should be afraid of, is not loving.’ Castiel thinks, somberly. ‘It is that we will never stop loving those who are long gone.’

Castiel knows he will never stop loving Dean, and it worries him. One day Dean will die. As an angel, Castiel will continue to live forever, and will not even get to see Dean’s soul. How would he go on?

Castiel would not be able to live without Dean. That, he already knows.


	6. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on...even after the death of a loved one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a clarification, humans do not see angels. It’s not by choice of the angels, that’s just how things are. That’s what makes Dean so special xD Sorry if it was a little confusing!

For the first time in his comparatively short life, Dean is forced to face up to the truth. He’s never had a problem with accepting the reality of a situation before. He’s never been so caught up in the fantasies of what might happen, that it’s impossible to understand the truth. His father is slowly slipping away. It’s too slow, and somehow seems even more painful than it would have been if he had simply passed away in the moment of his cardiac arrest. Dean prays every day. He offers bargains with God. He offers everything he has. He promises to be a better brother, a better son, a better student, a better person, if only God would let him keep Dad.

Dad’s condition gets worse, and Dean sees it in Mom’s eyes. Sam just sits outside, too suffocated with the medical stink that surrounds Dad. The machines whirr and beep, the silence filled only by the noise of their operation. Dean hates the hospital with its disinfectant and its nurses and doctors who come into Dad’s room, sigh, and shake their heads. They act as if Dean can’t see them, can’t hear them, the way they murmur among themselves and cluck to themselves over the way Mary stays by his side, day by day.

When the weekend ends, Mom gets Dean to take Sam home, take him to school and make sure he continues with his life, while she stays by Dad’s side. Dean himself skips school, going out to hang with Bobby at the scrap yard. Castiel just hovers, but Dean doesn’t talk much to him. He just isn’t in the mood. Bobby doesn’t say much either, just grunts at him, and reads his newspaper while Dean loiters around the rusting cars. When Friday rolls around, Dean picks Sam up from school in the Impala and they drive to the hospital.

“Is Dad going to be okay, Dean?” Sam asks his big brother, voice small.

“I don’t know, Sam.”

“He’ll wake up right, Dean?”

“I don’t know, Sam.” Dean’s knuckles turn white as he clenches the steering wheel too tight.

“He won’t d-“

Dean hits the breaks and glares at Sam. “Don’t you fucking say that Sam. Just shut your mouth.” Luckily they’re in a mostly deserted street, and a lone car honks as it passes him.

Sam doesn’t say a word for the rest of the drive.

The doctor finally talks to them about Dad’s deteriorating health. “I’m very sorry, but we cannot do anymore. Perhaps it would be best if we switched off the life support.”

Mom says nothing. Dean leaps out of his chair. “No! You can’t do that, we won’t let you. Mom tell him!”

“Dean.” Mom sighs. She hasn’t bothered to comb her hair in days, and her eyes have dark circles beneath them. Her usually radiant skin is waxy and pale. Dean almost doesn’t recognize his own mother.

Dean’s so filled with random emotions he doesn’t even bother dissecting them. He just runs out of the room and down the corridor, blinded by tears.

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice is deep, calming and comforting. But Dean doesn’t want to be comforted right now. He wants to be hurt and angry and tired, and he lashes out at Castiel.

“What!”

“Dean.” Castiel stands in front of him, stoically unmoving. Dean knows he isn’t going to back down. When he wants to be, that angel is stubborn as hell.

A sudden wave of inspiration washes over Dean. “Cas!” Dean looks up at Castiel.

Castiel looks wary. “Yes, Dean.”

“Please do something, Cas.” Dean is hopeful, and pleads with Castiel.

Castiel’s wings shake slightly; a small tremor that would normally go unnoticed. “I cannot Dean. I am unable to stop these things. It is his time.”

‘It’s not his time!’ Dean wants to scream. ‘He can’t die! My Dad can’t die!’

Instead he tries to persuade the angel. “Castiel you promised. You promised you’d never let anything hurt me…please, don’t let them, don’t let them take my Dad away from me, please.”

Castiel tries to hug him, like he used to when there was a thunderstorm and Dean was afraid. Like Dean always liked before bedtime. The love Dean has for Castiel feels betrayed and worn, and Dean all of a sudden is fatigued and angry. “You promised you bastard!” Dean screams at him, pushing him away.

Castiel hangs his head. For a moment, Dean feels upset, sorry for causing him to hurt. Then he remembers and he feels betrayed, like Castiel does not love him enough to do this for him. “I am sorry, Dean.” Castiel says. That’s when Dean snaps. Castiel doesn’t get to be sorry. Castiel doesn’t get to apologise and make everything okay.

Dean hisses, the betrayal and fury steeping into his voice. “Fuck you. Fuck God, and fuck all you angels.”

Dean storms away, back to where his father is still sleeping. It is all he can do to restrain himself from punching a wall.

Mom applies for Sam and Dean to take leave from school when Dad dies. Sam cries, a lot, and Mom just stares into empty spaces while stirring her coffee. Dad was cremated and the funeral and wake passed in a grey blur for Dean. He didn’t pay much attention to any of it. He was too sunken in his own sorrow to care about what was going on around him. Now, he simply sketches random pictures of Dad. He’s not too bad an artist, and he can produce something pretty realistic, armed with just a pencil.

Castiel hovers, watching Dean with that worried expression, his head cocked and his eyebrows furrowed. Dean just ignores him. He doesn’t really want to talk to Castiel right now. It takes two weeks from his Dad’s death for Dean to finally break down. He is going through some old photos, and comes across one of his three year old self riding Dad’s shoulders. His eyes are closed, and his mouth is caught in a laugh. His blonde hair whips wildly around his face. Dad’s laughing too, his hands protectively clasped over his son’s knees as Dean’s fingers grab at his hair. They both look so happy, and it hits Dean hard. Dad’s gone, for good. Until then, not a single tear had fallen from Dean’s eyes since Dad’s death. He’d been too shocked by it, too numb to properly cry it out. Now, the dam broke. Dean let his head hang, the tears streaming freely from his face. Behind the closed door of his room, Dean weeps, a fist pressed to his mouth, shaking with pent up grief and anger, at God, at the world and at himself.

A moment later, Castiel is there, and Dean is crying into his angel’s shoulder, safe in his arms. Clawing at Castiel’s trench coat, Dean pulls him closer, wrapping his arms tightly around Castiel’s shoulders. For the first time since he was fourteen, Dean falls asleep in Castiel’s embrace, his wings surrounding him.

The first day Dean goes back to school is absolute torture. Ash and Jo are okay, bright and cheery. They distract him from the loneliness he faces at home. He’s worried about Sam, how he’s going to cope, but it seems like his little brother’s way of dealing is throwing himself into his work. Dean on the other hand can’t bring himself to pay any attention in class, and his grades inevitably start slipping. The worst part is the way the teachers glance at the big red Fs on his papers, look up at him, sigh, and say nothing as he sidles out of the room. It’s like they’re sorry for him, and see why he’s doing this, and Dean hates it.

Losing a parent is one of the hardest things in the world, Dean decides, and he says as much to Castiel.

“Sucks not having a Dad.” Dean grouches, as he lies back on his bed after yet another long day. Mom still holes herself up in her bedroom after dinner. Their family doesn’t talk much anymore. Dean figures they just all need some time.

Castiel looks up at him with an odd expression. Dean’s forgiven him, mostly because he knows he was kind of a dick to ask something like that of Castiel, and it’s not the angel’s fault at all.

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean quirks an eyebrow at Castiel inquisitively.

“If I were to tell you something, you would not impart that information to anyone else. Am I correct in assuming so?” Castiel’s wings aren’t relaxed. It’s like he’s nervous, but Dean has never seen castile nervous.

“Yeah, sure, Cas.” Dean’s intrigued.

Castiel sighs. “I can empathize with you on not having a father. God has been missing from heaven for quite some time now.”

Dean’s jaw drops, his mind racing at the possible implications of this, but all he can manage is shock. “What?”

“There is no way of finding him, or tracing him.” Castiel confides. “I do not know when he will be back, if he will ever be back.”

“Cas, man, I’m sorry.” Dean whispers throatily, the magnitude of his emotions bleeding into his voice.

“Dean, believe me.” Castiel’s blue eyes are fixed on Dean, his entire expression one of trusting earnestness. “If there had been a way to keep your father from death, I would have left no stone unturned in order to find it. You must believe me, Dean.”

The backs of Dean’s eyes prick with tears, and his throat clogs up. Swallowing hard, Dean pulls Castiel into an awkward hug. “Oh, Cas. Of course I believe you man.”

“I love you, Dean.” Castiel tells Dean, and it forces an almost hysterical laugh of joy out of Dean’s throat.

“I love you too Cas.”

Dean drags Castiel to the new comic book store he found as soon as school closes for the year.

“Hey, Chuck!” He calls to the guy at the cashier. Chuck, a short, kindly, nerdy guy with a stutter waves back, with a cheery greeting.

Dean shows Castiel his favourite comics, speaking in a low voice, so that Chuck wouldn’t hear him. He was always on his guard when he was out in public with Castiel. It would not be the best thing in the world to be caught talking to an angel only you could see. He would have gotten himself tested for schizophrenia a long time ago if Castiel wasn’t so quintessentially inhumane, and didn’t know so much about the world before humans. Dean likes to think he is way too unimaginative to dream Castiel up anyway.

“Oh, hey, look Cas. The new issue of Batman’s out.” Grabbing a couple of comics, namely, Batman, Superman and Dean’s new favourite, Kirkman’s The Walking Dead, Dean plops them down on the counter, and nods at Chuck.

“Anything new for me, Chuck?” Dean asks.

“Um, well, I’ve got this new series in…you might like it..” Chuck mumbles as he reaches under the counter. He pulls out a large graphic novel with the title ‘Supernatural’ in graffiti lettering scrawled over it.

Dean picks it up, vaguely interested. “What is it about?”

“It’s about two brothers, Jared and Jensen Padalecki, who travel around America, hunting down creatures.”

Dean gives him a quizzical stare.

“You know, werewolves, ghosts, wendigos.” Chuck gulps.

Dean shrugs. “I’ll take it.”

Castiel stares at it, his head cocked. “Seems rather whimsical. Everyone knows such creatures do not exist.”

Dean ignores him, and as they make their way out of the store, Chuck throws a proud glance their way.

“Shouldn’t be long now.” He mutters as the door slams shut behind them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated :D


	7. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally everyone stops with the denial...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMGOMGOMG Finally watched S9 season premiere!!! HOLY CRAP, Castiel is the cutest thing to have fallen from heaven <3 Dammit, my feels are at an all time high xD Dean once again shows his eternal love for Cas (I need you man) heeeeheeee okok enough with the fangirling..here’s the next chapter!

Castiel could sense the change in their relationship. Dean doesn’t act the same way towards him anymore. Often he thinks back to the vivacious five year old who crawled into his lap and giggled, begging for another story before bedtime. It’s very different from eighteen year old Dean, who smirks at Castiel from across the room, with stolen looks, and sly winks. Castiel’s wings flutter insanely whenever Dean does this, and it makes his smirk grow even wider, as if he knows the swooping sensation in Castiel’s stomach, the way his grace leaps and pirouettes whenever Dean so much as looks at him. Each year Dean has grown more and more beautiful, and his eighteenth year is his peak. His shoulders are broad and muscular, tapering down to a slim waist, and lean legs. His freckles are fading slightly, and his eyes are their usual, vivid green, framed by lush but masculine features. Castiel, as an angel, considers humanity to be beautiful in general, but Dean is gorgeous, both externally and in his soul.

Castiel begins to realize that his love for Dean is meandering past the line of acceptable and into the dangerous territory of romantic and sexual. The way Dean is acting lately, is not at all helping the situation. Castiel swings between desire and confusion every time Dean so much as looks at him. As far as Castiel knows, he really shouldn’t be feeling this way…he really…really…shouldn’t….

“Hey, Cas.” Dean winks at Castiel, not even batting an eyelid at his sudden appearance in the room, as he yanks on his tie. “Mom made me wear this. What with graduation and all…”

Dean is dressed in a black suit, with a dark green tie. It’s a nice fit, and Dean’s figure is well shown in the cut. Castiel has never seen Dean in anything fancier than a t-shirt and jeans so the change is pleasant.

“How do I look, buddy?” Dean holds his arms out and gestures to himself in a sweeping motion.

Castiel lets his gaze travel over Dean, from the lightly gelled hair to his full lips, from the cleft of his chin to his chest, tight against the dress shirt, and finally down his legs to his dress shoes. He brings his gaze back up to Dean’s eyes, surprised at the sudden heat he finds there. Dean looks magnificent.

“You look good, Dean.” Castiel paused. “I am proud of you.”

Dean’s entire face lights up, and he surges forward to pull Castiel into a tight hug. “Thank you, Cas.” Suddenly, Castiel feels lips brush at his stubbled cheek, and Dean steps back, a smirk on his face. Castiel’s wings tremble, shivers rippling through the feathers at the contact. Before Dean can do anything that the smile playing on his lips suggests he wants to do, there is a knock on the door.

“Hey Mom.” Dean says to Mary.

“Oh honey.” Mary smiles at Dean with motherly pride. “You look so handsome.” Adjusting Dean’s tie, she smoothes out his suit jacket and straightens his collar.

“Thanks Mom.” Dean hugs her softly, like she is frail and delicate. For all her years, Mary is still lovely, blonde hair with just hints of grey flowing over her shoulders. “You’re beautiful as always.” Mary blushes and leans up to kiss her much taller son on the cheek.

“I love you, sweetie.” Mary reveals a small white box tied with a blue ribbon. “Happy graduation.”

Dean takes the box and undoes the ribbon, opening the box to reveal a small key. “The key to the Impala?” Dean murmurs. He flicks a glance at Castiel and he smiles. Dean gives a small smile in return and pulls the key out, as his mother continues.

“Your father always talked about you inheriting that thing for graduation. And you’ve taken such good care of it. Why don’t you go on a road trip, before you join Bobby at the auto-shop?”

“I could use that fund Dad set aside?”

“Of course honey.” Mary beams. “You’ve been taking such good care of me and Sam. You deserve it.”

Dean hugs his mother once more, and places a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you Mom. I love you.”

Later Castiel watches from a distance as Dean receives his high school diploma on stage. Pride and jubilance send his wings arching high, and he vanishes. He’ll be back later, but for now, it is Dean’s time to be with his family. They can talk later tonight.

“Castiel.” Castiel is standing in the woods behind the Winchester home.

“Gadreel.” Castiel turns to nod to the other angel.

“Don’t think I don’t know Castiel.” Gadreel spits. “You’re in love with the boy.”

“Gadreel!” Ambriel is suddenly beside them, but neither flinch.

“I do not see how it is any of your concern, brother.” Castiel says with a warning tone.

“Gadreel, you have no proof of such things.”Ambriel says, with a glance at Castiel. “Castiel, calm yourself.”

Castiel obliges because it is Ambriel who asks. Gadreel, however has no such intention.

“It is not your duty.” He hisses at Castiel.

Castiel draws himself up, his wings spreading to give the impression of size. He was after all, a Power. “Do not presume to tell me what my duty is Gadreel.” Castiel thunders. “You would do better to focus your energy on your own charge.”

Gadreel draws back with a snarl, and disappears.

Castiel fold his wings into his back and sighs. “I did not want to do that.”

Ambriel clasps her hands together, with a sad smile. “I know, Castiel. But the fact remains you are indeed in love with Dean Winchester.”

“It was not something I anticipated, Ambriel.” Castiel exhales heavily. “If I had, I would have done something about it.”

Ambriel looks at him sharply. “Like what, Castiel? Perhaps it is not meant to be so. Perhaps we are meant to follow our own instincts of what our duty is, instead of following what power-drunk giants are telling us to do upstairs! I cannot imagine a world where love is wrong, Castiel.”

“This isn’t just any love, Ambriel.” Castiel says, sorrowfully. “It is a love between a guardian angel and his charge and it brings more pain than happiness.”

“No, Castiel. It brings pain because of wrong ideas, and misconceptions, and rules that no longer hold justice.” Ambriel shakes her head. “The child loves you. I see it. You cannot run away from him.”

“He has his soulmate.” Castiel reminds her. “He will find that person.”

“That person is you, Castiel.” Ambriel murmurs. “Remember: Our Father put you here for a reason.” Ambriel is gone by the time Castiel lifts his eyes from the ground. But then, it does not take a sense of sight to know he is alone.

He is rocking in his chair in Dean’s room late that night when Dean returns. He totters into the room and slams heavily onto his bed.

“You are drunk.” Castiel states.

Dean flips spectacularly onto his back and stares at Castiel with a small noise of protest. “Just buzzed, Cas.”

Castiel cocks his head.

“Happy, Cas. I’m real happy.” Dean grins.

Castiel nods. “You should be. You are no longer attached to an institution.”

“Cas, buddy, when you say things like that, I really don’t get you.” Dean sighs, getting up, and covering the few inches between them, he collapses into Castiel’s arms. The movement would have winded a human, but Castiel catches him, easily able to hold Dean’s weight. He is not however, so sure about the old chair beneath them that is creaking loudly with their added weight.

“Bedtime, Dean.” Castiel pulls Dean up, sliding one arm under his back and the other under his knees.

“I feel like a bride.” Dean hiccups, as Castiel lays him onto the bed.

“Goodnight Dean.”

“Cas, stay with me, man.” Dean whispers. He links his fingers over the back of Castiel’s neck and drags his head downwards. Dean positions Castiel’s head next to his, and Castiel is forced to climb into bed with him.

“Dean.” Castiel begins, unsure of how, or what to say.

Dean slips his arms around Castiel’s waist and pulls him close, so close their noses are touching and their lips are inches apart. It would not take much for them to press together, and Castiel stiffens in Dean’s arms. Dean, on the other hand, seems to either not care or just not realize, and fluidly melds himself to Castiel, throwing a leg over the angel’s thigh. Castiel’s wings rustle slightly, since their movement is limited in this position, but Castiel feels the heat spread up his neck.

“Hmmm.” Dean hums into Castiel’s neck.

“Dean...” Castiel’s voice is deeper than usual, throaty with the emotions he simply cannot understand. “I love you.”

Dean opens his eyes and Castiel can see the sincerity in them. “I love you, Cas. I’m not just sayin’ it man. I mean it. I guess it’s why I broke up with Jo.”

“Dean, would you be telling me this without the influence of alcohol?” Castiel asks.

“Probably not, man. I mean, I’m pretty damn sober, but the alcohol moves it along you know? I just…really wanted to tell you tonight.” Dean cards his fingers through Castiel’s hair. “I’m still going to remember this tomorrow and I’m not going to regret it.”

Castiel nods slightly. “If you are sure that you will not regret it.”

“How could I man?” Dean presses his lips to Castiel’s cheek. “You’re the best thing in my life, right up there with Mom and Sam.”

Castiel relaxes in Dean’s arms. “That means a lot Dean. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Cas.” Dean says, his voice muffled with sleep. “Just one…last..thing.”

“What would that be?”

Dean moves forward slightly, just enough for their lips to touch. Dean’s lips move ever so gently against Castiel’s, smooth and soft. Castiel feels heady and his wings are fluttering and vibrating, no longer in his control. Dean gently runs a hand through his feathers and Castiel jerks against him. He can feel his charge smile against his lips as a tongue seeks permission to enter Castiel’s mouth, swiping along his bottom lip. Castiel’s lips part, and Dean probes the caverns of Castiel’s mouth with his tongue, slipping and poking in all the right places, provoking a moan from Castiel.

Finally, he pulls away, eyes bright. “God, Cas, I’ve been waiting so long to do that.”

Castiel touches a finger to his still tingling lips, awed. “I had no idea that was possible.”

“It’s not possible with everyone, Cas.” Dean runs the pad of his finger along Castiel’s cheek, just as he used to do to Dean when he was a baby. “Just with you. It’s special with you.”

Castiel lays his head on Dean’s shoulder and Dean kisses his ear, rubbing circles into Castiel’s back.

“I love you, Cas.” Dean murmurs as he falls asleep.

“I love you too, Dean.” Castiel whispers, as he watches Dean’s chest rise and fall. Clasping his charge closer to him, Castiel lets his mind go blank. For now, Gadreel and heaven don’t really matter. Now, all that seems real is what he feels for Dean and the solidity of the man he loves lying beside him. That’s all that matters right now.

____________________________________________

 

Finally! God’s been waiting and finally he gets. His OTP is canon! God chuckles to himself. They certainly took a long time in getting there, but he’s been keeping an eye on them.

It was definitely easier, seeing as the two came into his store nearly every week. It was cute the way Dean tried to hide the way he was talking to Castiel. Real cute.

God leans back in his chair and sips at his scotch. Phase 1 complete.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated! :D


	8. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, a Charlie cameo! xD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first off, I owe all of you a BIG thank you!!! I really didn’t expect so many people to like this story, and it’s lovely of you guys to post such encouraging comments and stuff, really warms me heart :’) Special thanks to Annie, to whom this fic is dedicated, for following me throughout. Anyway, before I get all soppy, here’s the next chapter!

Dean has been waiting for this day from the moment he stepped into high school.

“Graduation day honey, you gotta wear a suit.” Mom loops his tie around his neck and ties it for him, while Dean scowls at the restricting attire.

Grumbling, he lets his mother fuss over him, secretly liking the way he looks in a suit. It’s only slightly uncomfortable, but the material is flexible and shows off the body he’s worked hard to build.

“So, sweetie. Still set on not going to college?” Mom asks, nonchalantly.

“Yeah mom, college just isn’t for me.” Dean sighs. They’ve had this conversation before and he has no interest in having it again, especially when nothing is going to change his mind.

“Bobby still have that offer for you at the Auto-Shop?”

“Yep. He says I can start in three months.”

“You know Dad always wanted you and Sam to go to college.” Mom says. “He set aside a fund for you. But if you don’t want to go, I’m not going to force you.” Mom looks at him and kisses his cheek. “I love you sweetie. Now go get ready, we’re leaving in half an hour.” Dean still has to gel his hair and get his gown and mortarboard, so he runs upstairs, only to bump into Sam on the landing.

“Woah Dean.” His kid brother grins. “This is the first time I’ve seen you so dressed up.”

Dean rubs his knuckles over Sam’s hair. He’s almost at Dean’s height now, even at  fourteen, and Dean’s pretty sure Sam’s going to outgrow him. “Man you’re growing up aren’t you?”

Another reason why Dean refuses to go to college is that he doesn’t want to miss Sam growing up. He wants to see him through high school, and watch him grow into the fine, tall young man Dean knows he’ll be. That alone is enough to keep him in Lawrence for good. He doesn’t want to leave because he still needs to take care of Mom and Sam, just like he’s been doing since Dad died.

“Almost your height now.” Sam says, pulling himself up and puffing his chest out.

“You sure are, Sam.”

“I’m proud of you man. For graduating high school.” Sam says, seriously. “I know it’s been hard on you since Dad died.”

Dean whistles. “Wow, dude, you really have grown up. Don’t worry, Sammy. Things are going to be easier now.” His voice cracks slightly, and he smiles goofily down at his little brother.

“It’s _Sam._ ” Sam stresses, before rolling his eyes and giving Dean a quick, bear hug.

Dean pats his back, and clears his throat. Sam pulls away and grins at Dean. “Chick flick moment over.” He imitates Dean, getting a whack upside the head for his effort as Dean walks past him.

“Bitch.” Dean calls.

“Jerk.” Sam grumps, and Dean chuckles. Some things just never change.

He’s gelled up his hair and is checking himself out in the mirror when Castiel shows up.

“Hey Cas.” Dean winks at Castiel, yanking on his tie. “Mom made me wear this. What with graduation and all. How do I look, buddy?”

Dean’s spine trembles with the thrill he gets from the methodical way Castiel is examining literally every part of him. It’s startlingly sexual and Dean’s kind of excited…embarrassingly so. When Castiel looks into Dean’s eyes once more, Dean is surprised to see the heat in those darkened blue eyes of his. The pupils are dilated, and Castiel’s mouth is slightly parted, as if he’s having trouble breathing. His wings are fluttering to a rhythm of their own. Dean is very turned on.

“You look good, Dean.” Castiel murmurs in that gravelly voice of his that Dean finds so damn sexy. “I am proud of you.”

Dean feels almost weak in the knees. All his lust is forgotten in the sudden rush of love and swell of pride that threatens to pull him under. He moves forward and pulls Castiel into a hug. That is the moment he decides that tonight, he is going to tell Castiel what he feels for him. Even if it kills him.

The post graduation parties are always the best, or so Dean has been told countless times. So after lunch with his family, Dean joins Ash and Jo to head to one down at the Roadhouse, the bar owned by Ellen Harvelle, Jo’s mother.

“I can’t believe your Mom is letting us throw a party out here.” Dean yells over the heart thumping music blasting from large stereos. Teenagers gyrate out on the dance floor, bodies sweaty and hot, pulsating together as one massive body. The three of them are at the bar, where Ellen is serving them drinks.

When each of them get a beer, Ash pipes up. “I can’t believe she’s letting us drink.”

Jo shrugs. “My mom’s cool.”

Dean laughs and watches the dancers. A redhead extricates herself from the nearest group and plops herself down on the barstool next to Dean. “Hey.” She grins at him, holding out a hand. “I’m Charlie.”

“Dean.” Dean shakes it and nods at Charlie. He’s unsure of whether he’s getting picked up or not.

“Man, your friend’s pretty hot.” Charlie nudges him, with a wink.

“Who, Ash?” Dean asks, mystified.

“No, the blonde chick!” Charlie rolls her eyes. “Duh.”

Dean almost snorts out his beer. Laughing, he shakes his head at her. “I don’t think Jo’s gay!”

The redhead shrugs. “Never know till you try.”

Dean watches as she goes over to Jo and whispers something in her ear. Jo giggles and nods, taking the redhead’s outstretched hand and laughs as she’s whirled onto the dance floor. Dean looks at Ash, and Ash looks at him. After a moment they shrug at each other, and go back to their beers.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” Jo asks him, concerned. They’re standing in a group outside the Roadhouse, Jo, Charlie, Dean and Ash. Charlie has an arm around Jo’s waist, and as Dean pulls out the key to the Impala, Jo moves closer to him.

“If this is about me and Charlie…”

Dean cuts her off. “Naw, Jo. I’m happy for you, I really am, but I gotta do something important. With someone.” He looks at her shyly, and she nods, with a smile. Dean hugs Jo, her familiarity a great comfort. “Bye Jo.”

He bids the rest of the group farewell, and gets into his car.

Later that night, when he kisses Castiel, he feels everything is worth it.

The next day he wakes up safe in Castiel’s arms. Castiel is awake as usual and watching him sleep, with nothing short of worry written all over his face. “Hey babe.” Dean murmurs sleepily, stroking Castiel’s cheek with his fingertips. Castiel’s facial muscles relax visibly and he moves closer to Dean.

“I was worried you would regret this.” Castiel explains.

“I already told you.” Dean says patiently. “I’m not ever going to regret this.”

Castiel still looks wary, and Dean takes his pale face in his hands. “I love you man.”

One of his rare smiles graces Castiel’s features. “I love you, Dean.”

Dean yawns, and moves onto his back, one arm around Castiel and another arm folded under his head. It feels nice and domestic and natural, and Dean actually likes it. “Are you even allowed to do this, Cas?”

Castiel freezes, as if he’s picking out the correct words. Dean’s panic alarms go off. What if he’s getting his angel in trouble? He doesn’t want Castiel to be taken away from him. Dean won’t be able to handle that.

“It does not matter whether or not it is allowed.” Castiel begins carefully. “It feels right to me and that is all I care about.”

Dean pauses. Why does he feel like he is forcing Castiel to make a sacrifice for him? Something about it seems off to Dean and he can’t help the worry that flames through his mind. He pushes it away for the moment and presses his lips to Castiel’s thick, curly hair. “Cas?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“I’m going on a roadtrip. I’m thinking of leaving next week…you in?” Dean asks nervously, wetting his dry lips.

“I go wherever you go, Dean.” Castiel says simply, and that’s all the confirmation Dean needs. Propping himself up on one arm, Dean leans over to kiss his angel, and Castiel responds eagerly. Dean can’t get enough of Castiel’s scent and taste. His mouth doesn’t have a particular taste, it’s more a mental thing. Whenever Dean kisses Castiel, he thinks of vast meadows as far as the eye can see. He thinks of the way the wind blows through his hair as he drives in the Impala with the windows down. It is everything that Dean loves, and most of all, it feels like home when he kisses Castiel. It’s heady, and intoxicating, and makes Dean feel dizzy and light.

“Dean!” Mom knocks on his door, and groaning, Dean sits up. It wouldn’t do to have his mother walk in on him kissing a phantom. Which in fact brings up yet another issue of having an angel boyfriend. He can’t display his affections for Castiel in public, that is, unless he wants to be sent to an asylum.

“Dean, honey, I made breakfast.” Mom says as she enters his room with an armful of clean laundry. “Put this away later, alright?”

Dean nods with a sigh. “You got it, Mom.”

As soon as she leaves, Dean gets up, walks around to Castiel’s side, and runs his fingers through Castiel’s lovely feathers, causing them to shiver in delight. Castiel’s mouth quirks up in a small smile as Dean leans in for one last long kiss.

“Gotta go, baby.” Dean murmurs.

“You are wanted for breakfast, Dean.” Castiel answers gravely.

“I know.” Dean sighs and plants a quick kiss on the corner of Castiel’s mouth. Dean has been waiting two years to kiss Castiel and now that it has finally happened, he wants to make up for the two years he was too chickenshit to just man up and tell the guy….angel…whatever.

“Dean!” Mom sounds impatient.

“Coming Mom.” Dean runs into the hall bathroom to brush his teeth before making his way down to breakfast.

As a new week rolls around, Dean is packed and ready to go. He stows his trunk in the Impala and dumps the lunch and water that his mother has packed for him in the backseat. Mom stands with her arms wrapped around herself. It’s a cold morning and winter is fast approaching. He plans on taking Interstate 70 down to Missouri, then the 55 down to New Orleans. He figures he’ll make his way back to Lawrence from there. Glancing over at Castiel sitting shotgun, Dean grins to himself.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own, sweetheart?” Mom asks, worriedly.

‘I’m not on my own.’ Dean thinks, but instead assures his mother. “I’ll be fine Mom.”

“I still think you should’ve asked Ash or Jo to come with you.” Mom folds her arms over her chest.

“This is something I want to do alone, Mom.” Dean tells his mother pulling her into a tight hug.

Mom hugs Dean hard and Dean turns to Sam. “See you soon, squirt.”

“Two months isn’t soon, Dean.” Sam mock scowls.

“Tell you what.” Dean relents. “We’ll take a road trip when you get out of high school, okay? Just you and me.”

Sammy flushes with pleasure. “That’d be awesome Dean.”

“Can’t wait, Sammy.” Dean hugs his brother, and as he pulls away, Sam sniffs.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean laughs.

Mom just rolls her eyes, smiling at their usual exchange.

Dean drives away and as the only family he has left fades into the distance, he reaches over and takes Castiel’s hand. Castiel squeezes, interlacing their fingers and Dean grins.


	9. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little more fluff xD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This installment is a little late sorry xD Next one will be up on Monday!

Castiel has existed for exactly 5,000,000 millennia, 3,400 centuries, 240 decades, 4 years, 8 hours, 3 minutes and 43 seconds. The greatest 2.5 seconds of Castiel’s life are when Dean Winchester first kisses him.  When God deemed it time for a new era of life after the meteor that eradicated the dinosaurs, he told the angels of the evolution that was about to take place. When human beings finally appeared, he was awestruck with their mating cycles and the reproduction process. Kissing was not only done as a display of affection, it was also one of comfort and soon became even a gesture of greeting. He himself mainly understood the mechanics of it, and now, Dean’s kissing him so softly, it makes his grace pulse and twirl with wonder and amazement at the emotions that are ramming into him with the force of a freight train. Castiel marvels at the way their lips slot together, a perfect fit, but the moment is over all too soon. Dean looks at him with a soppy smile. His wings sigh and murmur like the wind, displacing each other with the euphoria and peace of it.

Dean chuckles and ruffles Castiel’s hair, as he pulls away. Castiel makes a noise of irritation, wanting Dean’s lips back against his but Dean only stretches as he gets off the bed. “C’mon Cas, don’t look at me like that. We’re leaving soon, we’ll have time to ourselves then.”

Castiel sighs. “Forgive me, Dean. I simply find kissing you is rather the most enjoyable thing I can find to do.”

Dean’s eyes darken and he laughs throatily, a dark and lustful sound. “There’ll be plenty of other enjoyable things we can find to do Cas, but not now.” Dean promises. “It’s only two more days babe.”

Castiel finds that after living through millennia without this amazing contact with Dean, he can probably find the patience to wait 48 hours. He just doesn’t want to.

Dean yawns. “I’m going to take Sam to the movies. I want to spend some time with him before I leave. Catch you later Cas.” With that, Dean pads out the door, and Castiel wonders what he should do for the time being.

As it turns out, Castiel doesn’t have much to worry about in the way of entertainment.

“Gadreel.” Castiel greets his brother warmly despite their previous less-than-friendly encounter. Gadreel is surprisingly expressionless. His wings are completely still. It’s normal for angels like Castiel, but not for guardian angels for Gadreel who have spent a better part of their existence with human beings.

“Castiel.” Gadreel’s voice is carefully controlled.

Before Castiel can say a word, Gadreel is gone, leaving Castiel very confused. He goes in search of Ambriel instead.

“Hello Castiel.” Ambriel is sitting quietly in a corner of the living room as Mary folds laundry, calloused hands smoothing down fabric, getting the creases out efficiently.

“Hello, Ambriel.” Castiel stands beside her, and they watch Mary for a few moments.

Ambriel breaks the companionable silence. “You seem happier.”

“I am.” Castiel’s wings shake out in a sigh and fold back against his back. “Dean and I, we are doing well.”

“That is good.” Ambriel pauses for a long moment. “It will not be easy Castiel.”

“I am prepared…for the backlash from heaven.” Castiel chooses his words carefully.

“There will be many who disagree with your choices.” Ambriel warns.

Castiel nods. “I understand.”

“You do not, Castiel. You continue to have the idea that somehow heaven might accept you.”

“Heaven is my home.” Castiel says stubbornly. “I cannot give up on my brothers and sisters.”

“With our absent Father, I do not think it will be well received, Castiel.” Ambriel says kindly.

“I do not want to think about it.” Castiel says mulishly.

“Castiel…”

“Ambriel I have made my decision. Whether or not heaven can accept it, I must abide by my choice.”

“You may not have a choice in the matter soon Castiel.” Ambriel is almost hesitant to mention it, but she does anyway. “No other angel has fallen since the time of Lucifer, Castiel.”

Castiel looks up sharply, his wings rustling, disturbed. “Surely I cannot be condemned for love.”

“God is no longer around, Castiel.” Ambriel’s gaze is piteous. “The angels will not hesitate to mete out such a punishment.”

“No, they cannot.” Castiel’s wings fan out, rippling with indignation.

Ambriel’s wings press against her back, tense. “Perhaps it would be best if..”

Castiel does not wait around to hear what Ambriel has to say. He already knows it is something he does not want to hear. By no means will he leave.

As the Kansas sky rapidly darkens, Castiel removes his trench coat and suit jacket. Loosening his tie, he carefully pulls it over his head and drapes it carefully over his folded coat and jacket, which lie on his chair. Rolling up his shirt cuffs as Dean often does for him before bed, he tucks himself into Dean’s bed, inhaling the scent of Dean intermingled with his favourite cologne. Closing his eyes, he tunes out completely. He often does this when he wants to be alone. He tunes out the ‘angel radio’ as Dean refers to it. He tunes out the world and all its sounds and smells and sights. The only thing he keeps open is the channel between him and Dean in case his charge needs him. He controls his breathing and feels himself drift away, his grace stilling within him, as he relaxes completely.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Dean’s deep, amused voice cuts into Castiel’s consciousness, and he opens his eyes to stare at Dean.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean grins. “Hi there, gorgeous.” It takes moments for him to strip out of his clothes, down to his boxers and join Castiel in bed. He groans when he sees Castiel still in his pants, belt and shirt. “Cas, what’ve I told you about bedtime.”

Castiel obediently gets up and pulls off the rest of his clothes as Dean watches, supposedly rather affected by the way his pupils are dilated and his breath is ragged. Once Castiel is down to a pair of undershorts, Dean holds an arm out to him in invitation from under the covers. They’re soon comfortable, wrapped up in each other, legs tangled. Castiel likes it best when Dean is in the mood to cuddle. It makes him feel like he’s close to Dean in every sense possible. It’s like how Dean used to curl up with him in a pillow fort of his own making as a thunderstorm raged outside. In that sense, five year old Dean is the same as eighteen year old Dean, but now everything is different.

“I was thinking today.” Dean nuzzles his neck. “I can’t wait to spend time with you on our road trip. It’s kind of difficult dating an angel when people are around.”

Castiel is puzzled. “Why?”

“Because no one can see you, Cas.” Dean gives him a look, like it should be obvious. Castiel can’t understand how he overlooked it before.

“Would that be a problem?” Castiel asks, worriedly. “Humans are not by nature able to see angels.”

“No problem, Cas, buddy.” Dean kisses the wrinkle in his forehead. “I just wish I could take you out on a date or introduce you to my family like I would if you weren’t an angel.”

“You would not love me if I were not an angel.” Castiel says matter of factly.

He thinks he may have said the wrong thing, when Dean sits up and stares at Castiel, eyebrows raised and mouth turned down in a frown. “Cas, what the hell?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Of course I would love you even if you weren’t an angel!” Dean’s nostrils flare. “You being an angel doesn’t define you man, it’s so many other things. Like the way you look at me when you’re confused. Or the way you make little noises when I kiss you, or those fucking eyes of yours or that beautiful smile.”

Castiel is speechless. He doesn’t know what to say to this, and he had never really thought about the idea that an angel isn’t all he is.

“Cas,” Dean continues, gently. “You’re more than just an angel, babe.”

“I never thought of it that way before.” Castiel frowns. Dean huffs a laugh and lies back down on his back.

“I’d love you no matter what you were.” Dean promises, with a kiss to each of Castiel’s closed eyes.

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel’s wings wrap around his charge as he rests his head against the crook of Dean’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Cas.” Dean grins, fingers idly playing with Castiel’s hair. “It ain’t going to be easy though Cas.”

“That’s what Ambriel tells me every day.” Castiel says mournfully.

“Oh, yeah?” Dean yawns.

“Heaven will be displeased if they come to know about us.”

Castiel feels Dean shrug. “So they won’t find out. No biggie.” Dean presses a kiss to Castiel’s hair.

Castiel draws Dean a little closer into their embrace, reveling in their shared heat.

“It’ll be okay, baby. We’ll get through.”

“How do you know that?” Castiel asks Dean, genuinely curious.

“Like it or not, Cas, you’re a Winchester. Have been for a long time now. And Winchesters always pull through.” Dean says gruffly.

Castiel’s wings quiver with complete happiness. “I like it.”

Dean chuckles. “I know you do.”

“How was your day?” Castiel asks, trying to make small talk, as he has seen many people do.

“You been watching soaps again?” Dean asks suspiciously.

“Only Dr. Sexy, like you advised me to.” Castiel smiles.

“Liar. I know the soaps are your favourite.”

“And I know you cried during The Sixth Sense.”

Dean humphed. “Yeah well whoever didn’t cry at that movie, like you, is soulless.”

“I don’t have a soul Dean.”

“My point exactly.” Dean retorts.

Castiel smiles. It is easy to fall into this type of easy banter with Dean. He enjoys it immensely.

________________________________________________

 

God watches as Dean Winchester falls asleep, smiling at the openly loving way Castiel watches him. His angel really was meant for great things. He frowns, turning away from his crystal ball, snapping a finger to return it to a harmless curio. (Cliché, he knows, but he likes it.)

Things are about to get pretty hairy for those two, God knows, and it will be painful. God smiles. There is no beauty without pain.

He sighs. He never wanted to leave his children, but they have a lesson to learn, and it is necessary. He closes up shop.

The end of another day, he thinks, but the beginning of a new one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


	10. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut, and more feelings talk xD Poor Dean-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, some chapters are a bitch to write xD Here I was waiting to get to the smut, but I had to have some plot in there haha! I decided to do the wing!kink for next chapter, so that we get it from Castiel’s POV, but please enjoy this taster

Dean pulls off the Lawrence Turnpike into the Interstate 70. Castiel is taking in the sights like everything is new to him, and Dean can’t help but steal glances over at his angel as he drives. Castiel’s black hair is whipped about by the wind rushing through the open windows of the Impala and his eyes are wide and so very blue. Dean can remember sitting like that next to Dad as he drove. When he was a kid, he’d put his knees up on the leather seats and stick his head out the side window. Mom always used to get worried and make him pull his head back in, but his Dad didn’t mind. Dean sighs. So many things have changed since then. It’s been more than a year now, and Dean’s fine. He still thinks about Dad, sometimes imagining what he’d say or what he’d do if he was still there, but he doesn’t pine for his father any longer.

He just hopes Dad would be proud of him.

Dean considers the idea of him and Castiel. In a motel. Together. Alone. Dean is pretty sure he really wants to get in Castiel’s pants. As awful as it sounds, he loves Castiel, and the natural progression of that should be sex…or at least it should be if Castiel wasn’t an angel. Which makes Dean wonder…

“Hey Cas?”

“Yes, Dean.” Castiel’s eyes shift to him, but Dean only gives those blue orbs a glance  before focusing on the road before them. The interstate’s deserted now, with only one beat up truck ahead of them.

“Uh…isn’t um, homosexuality, considered like a sin…in church?” Dean asks.

Castiel frowns. “God loves all his creations Dean. I can assure you sexual orientation has nothing to do with it.”

“So it’s not a sin?”

“The body is simply a container, Dean. What matters is the soul. What human beings call sex is more than that, it is a temporary joining of two souls, particularly if they are in love.” Castiel explains, the way a teacher would explain it. “It matters not what the soul is contained in, man or woman. Love surpasses gender.” Castiel looks at Dean meaningfully.

If it was anyone else, Dean would be blushing and frantically changing the subject. But with Castiel it’s somehow normal. This is after all his angel, who has seen him through all of his formative years. He can’t possibly be ashamed in front of him.

“I miss Dad.” Dean murmurs. “I nearly forgot what it was like to ride in this car with him.”

Castiel turns sympathetic eyes on Dean. Dean just keeps talking, memories flooding in, swirling around in his mind. He wants to kind of blurt them out, put them into Castiel’s memory for safekeeping, in case he forgets again.

“Dad took us, Sam and I, to get ice cream every weekend when we were little. Sam’d order a small vanilla cone every damn time, and Dad always used to try to get him to try something new. Sam was, what, four? So he’s just shake his head and say no, Daddy, no! So Dad’d just give up.” Dean chuckles. “Sam didn’t start trying new things until he was six, and it was mostly because he treated me like I was his hero.”

“You never stopped being his hero, Dean.” Castiel says, matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“He talks about you a lot. Especially to Jess.”

“That girl he likes?” Dean smiled.

“Yes.” Castiel clarified. “He seems very fond of her.”

“I’ll bet.” Dean smiles, then sighs. “I wish we could be like that man.”

Castiel cocked his head at Dean, and Dean only looks at him for a moment before clearing his throat and focusing on the dotted white lines stretching ahead of him on the tar.

“I mean, I wish I could take you home to my parents. I know Mom would like you. And you and Sam would just nerd out with each other.” Dean allows a soft laugh to escape him. “Yeah, Sam would like you a lot.”

“I wish I could let you have that, Dean.” Castiel says, his voice slightly hoarse with an undercurrent of what Dean identifies as pain. “I would do anything if I could-“ Castiel stops abruptly, but Dean takes no notice.

“Nah man. I like the way we are now.” Dean smiles. “I don’t want to give this up, no matter how hard it is.”

“If it gets too hard, you can let go any time Dean.” Castiel assures him.

“You mean like an escape pod?” Dean is confused.

“Yes.”

“I think that ship sailed a long time ago, Cas.” Dean mumbles. “I’m not interested in an escape hatch or whatever.”

They stop at Maple Leaf Lake to have their lunch. It’s fall, and the ground is blanketed in leaves of orange, red and gold. It’s lovely, but Dean has quite a way to go before they get to Missouri and he doesn’t want to be stuck out driving after sunset.

They finally stop in a small motel in Blytheville, Missouri just as the sun sets, and Dean is frankly, pretty tired. He doesn’t know why, but travelling always seems to make him tired and sticky. Also, he’s pretty sure he has a cramp in his ass. Castiel, damn him, looks perfect and gorgeous as always. Dean dumps his luggage in the room, and sets the keys down on the bedside table. It’s a pretty standard motel room with a queen sized bed, whitewashed walls, and a tiny television. Dean almost thinks it might still be in black and white.

Dean riffles through his suitcase and pulls out an old Metallica t-shirt he grew out of, and a pair of navy cotton Dockers. “Here, Cas, something to sleep in.” Castiel picks at the clothes distrustfully as Dean grabs a cotton tee and boxers for himself and runs the shower. The hot water pelts Dean’s chest and he sighs, soaping up quickly, intending to get back out to Castiel as soon as possible.

He’d considered the possibility of sex before, but hadn’t really thought it feasible in his parents’ house. But here they both are in a motel room, alone. Dean wonders if Castiel even knows anything about sex. Did angels even have sex? How did they reproduce then? Oh that’s right, Castiel told him about that. God created them. Dean inhales the humid steam, coughing slightly as he let the water wash the grime and sweat of a usual day off his skin. He’s glad to have the irritating sandpaper feel of the salt on his skin, completely eradicated. He’s about to turn off the water, when he hears the door open. Dean immediately freezes, wondering if it’s robbers or anything like that. He’s close to grabbing the shower head and hitting the person who looms in shadow behind the shower curtain but stops himself as blue eyes gaze at him through the slit in the curtains.

Dean’s heart stops and for a moment he just stares back into Castiel’s eyes. Carefully, the angel steps into the shower, and it’s small enough that Castiel’s lean, naked body is pressed against Dean’s very enticingly. Dean almost has a heart attack when Castiel pushes him roughly against the slippery walls and presses a wet, hot mouth to his. Dean’s brain just stops functioning and he reacts, opening his own mouth, licking softly into Castiel’s mouth, tasting it. Dean never gets tired of the way Castiel tastes: so fresh and minty, with a subtle hint of something unrecognizable, but something so very pure and Castiel. Dean groans into Castiel’s mouth, letting the other press and grind against him as waves of pleasure build and crash in a heady rhythm.

“Jesus Cas.” Dean pulls away panting. “Where did you even learn that?”

Castiel’s wings spread out gently, then fold against his back, in that adorable way he has when he’s nervous. “I looked at your laptop.”

“What?” Dean yelps.

Castiel shrugs. “You left your laptop open on your bed once, and it was opened to some site with many naked women. There was a video playing, if I remember correctly, it was called The Pizzaman.”

Dean bites his lip. That should not be so hot. Castiel’s brows furrow at the indecision on Dean’s face. “If you do not like this, I can stop. I merely assumed it is what you want...”

“Cas…it’s just different.” Dean takes Castiel’s face in his hands and kisses his lips chastely. “I like it.” Bucking his hips forward, he rubs their very erect cocks together. Castiel gasps.

Dean reaches down between them and grips a hand around Castiel’s dick. It’s interesting, but it’s nice. The weight of him in Dean’s hand feels familiar but new, and Dean squeezes lightly. Castiel bites into Dean’s shoulder, drawing a groan from him. Dean starts to stroke, twisting his hand slightly at the base on each stroke. Castiel cries out, and digs his nails into Dean’s back, muffling his mewls in Dean’s wet skin. As Dean pumps his hand harder and faster, Castiel pulls back to stare into Dean’s eyes with utter shock and awe. “Dean.” Castiel murmurs his name like a revelation, and then he’s coming all over Dean’s fist. Dean continues stroking slowly, guiding him through his orgasm, until Castiel is spent. Castiel melts into Dean and sighs.

“How’d it feel baby?” Dean asks, gently.

“Wonderful, Dean.” The normally deep voice has gone an octave lower and it sends a tingle straight to Dean’s dick, which stands painfully to attention.

Castiel looks down at it, pressing against his stomach and chuckles. Stepping out of the shower, he leads Dean to the bed, and pushes him down. “Cas…” Dean breathes as Castiel drops to his knees and without hesitation, swallows him into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Dean swears as he curls his fingers into Castiel’s bobbing head, loving the way his tongue swirls over his cock-head. Castiel appears to have no gag reflex, not stopping the marvelous suction he is applying to Dean’s cock even when Dean thrusts into his throat.

“Cas, god, you feel…urgh…so…good…baby.” Dean mumbles, not really knowing what he’s saying, but not really giving a damn.

Castiel moans around Dean’s dick and oh, goddamn that feels good. Dean knows he isn’t going to last much longer and he tells Castiel so as his fingers grab desperately at the sheets and his toes curl. His entire spine curves and his thighs tighten as he comes undone in his angel’s mouth. Castiel swallows his spunk without a word. Dean pulls him up onto the bed with him and they lie back, sharing languid, messy kisses. Dean has never felt anything so amazing, and he doesn’t hesitate telling Castiel that.

“Best. Sex. Ever.” Dean says, each word punctuated with a kiss.

“Though I have nothing to peg it to, I must agree that that was very enjoyable. Castiel’s wings are cocooning them both. Dean runs his fingers through the feathers eliciting a slight moan from Castiel.

Grinning, Dean winks. “Enjoyable? That was fucking amazing.” Ducking his head, he runs an experimental tongue along the ridge of Castiel’s wings. “Your wings are so beautiful Cas.” Dean murmurs as Castiel jerks in his arms.

“Dean.” Castiel’s cock is starting to twitch, and Dean presses a kiss to his temple.

“Sensitive there aren’t ya?” Dean’s tone is teasing and suggestive, but he yawns.

Castiel kisses the corner of his mouth. “There is time for that. For now, you must sleep.” So Dean does.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


	11. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUTTY and wing kink xD yay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s quite literally just smut xD Thank you for all the people who have left comments, it’s so encouraging and lovely to hear from you :D Much love to all you guys, this one’s doing even better than Cup-A-Cabana which I never once expected, but there you go! It’s all down to you guys so a heartfelt thank you.

Being with Dean is something new, something extraordinary. Castiel still cannot quite grasp where their dynamic shifted. It appears just yesterday Dean was begging for one last story before bedtime. On the one hand, that still hasn’t changed. As Castiel curls up against Dean, safe in his arms, the stories continue. Castiel tells him of creation, the dinosaurs, and of heaven. Dean kisses him without holding anything back. He kisses him whenever he can. Castiel is always looking for an excuse to touch Dean, just to remind himself that he’s here, that Dean exists and is near. The feeling is new, and wonderful. Lying in bed with Dean after their first night of love-making, Castiel cannot think of a single place he would rather be. Since Dean wakes up an hour after their little session, Castiel entertains his requests for some bedtime stories.

“Tell me how it was when you were born.” Dean murmurs into his hair, even though he’s heard this story numerous times, but Castiel can never refuse his charge.

“I was surrounded by love. All the angels from the garrison I was to join as well as all the archangels were there. The archangels are even older than I am. I was wingless, as all new angels are, and God proclaimed me to be a Power. There was so much joy and so much celebration. I remember God telling me I was meant for great things. That I should follow my own path.” Castiel smiles. “I believe he always meant for me to be your guardian.”

“So you think he’s still around then?”

“He’s always around Dean. God does not simply leave. He is forever working in our lives.”

Dean chuckles. “Guess I got Him to thank for you then.”

Castiel nuzzles into the column of Dean’s neck. “I thank Him every day for you.”

Dean rubs his cheek against Castiel’s hair with a small sigh. “One more story before bed, then. I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

“Very well. I do not think I have ever told you the story of the first flower. God sculpted one from mud and shaped it with water from the spring in the Garden of Eden. He breathed life into it, and it was the most beautiful thing we had ever seen. That is, until Adam and Eve were created…” Castiel smiles and moves closer to his snoring human, waiting for dawn to break.

By the time the sun is high in the sky, they are out on the road once more. Castiel is not that interested in where they are or where they’re going. The point is, he’s with Dean and that’s all that matters. There is often no need for conversation between them. Castiel likes the way the wind blows through Dean’s hair. He likes the way Dean nods his head infinitesimally to the loud classic rock that blasts from the Impala’s speakers. He likes the way Dean croons to his car when he thinks Castiel can’t hear. Most of all, Castiel likes the way Dean looks at him, the careless smile that spreads over his face, and the way he links their fingers together, like they were made to fit.

“Babe.” Dean talks through a mouthful of burger. “I think I’m going to head up to San Antonio. What do you think?”

“If that takes your fancy, I am fine with it Dean.” Castiel smiles serenely, taking a bite of his cheeseburger. He has developed a liking for the greasy treats, and Dean sometimes gets annoyed that that’s all he ever orders.

“I mean I’ve always wanted to see the place. It’s supposed to be one of the most populated cities in the US.” Dean continues. “And it’s got this wicked nightlife, and I could take you to the wildlife ranch.” Dean grins.

“I would like to see a wildlife ranch.” Castiel supplies, even though he could easily fly to Africa. He wants to see it with Dean. He knows Dean has always held a great fascination for wildlife and nature, thus the detours into nature reserves and parks. They’d so far stopped in Maple Leaf Lake Conservation Area, St Francois State Park, and Morgan Brake National Wildlife Refuge. Dean had most loved the lake at St Francois.

“You know what, Cas.” Dean chatters excitedly. “There are more wildlife reserves as we go, maybe we could camp out at one of them. We could rent some gear and everything.”

“Of course Dean.” Castiel smiles. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Dean grins happily. Castiel can tell this is the happiest he’s been in a long time. They’re currently at New Orleans, but Dean isn’t very impressed with it, so they plan on getting back on the road after spending the night in a small hotel across the road from the diner. It’s already dark when they retire to the room that Dean books. It’s a little nicer than the standard motel room, but Castiel does not pay much attention to it. They are not going to be spending any precious time alone admiring the room. Dean doesn’t waste any time. As soon as he lugs the bags into the room, he pulls Castiel flush against him and pushes Castiel’s coat off, undoing his tie and stripping him out of his suit.

Castiel moves back to lie back on the bed in the nude. He spreads his wings against the bedding and watches Dean as he pulls off his t-shirt and yanks his jeans and boxers down. Dean presses the full length of his body against Castiel making him gasp out loud. “Dean…” Castiel groans, his hands moving up Dean’s sides, coming to rest on his broad chest, thumbs flicking against Dean’s hardened nipples.

Dean bites his bottom lip and grunts with sudden pleasure. Leaning back to straddle Castiel, Dean casts a wicked glance at Castiel. “Time to find out just how sensitive these wings of yours are, Cas.” With an open, hot kiss, Dean spreads his palms against Castiel’s wings, thumbs resting on the sensitive downy area near Castiel’s back. Castiel bucks his hips against Dean, crying out as their erections rub together.

“Shhh.” Dean pushes at Castiel, and he flips over to lie on his stomach, leaving his wings bared to Dean. He can feel Dean’s cock rubbing deliciously against his the cleft of his ass, and his erection pressed against the bedsheets.

Castiel is facing a sensory overload. There is so much to focus on, so much to feel, it almost bowls him over the edge, but he just whimpers and presses his face into the bed. Dean murmurs encouragement as he runs his fingers over Castiel’s wings. Pleasure rushes up Castiel’s spine every time Dean touches his wings but the ecstasy is close to unbearable when Dean mouths at the feathers nearest to his shoulder blades.

“Dean!” Castiel cries out, as Dean licks his shoulder blades, biting at the taut skin there.

“Just a minute, Cas.” Dean says tenderly, and the mattress shifts as Dean gets off. Cold air chills Castiel and he squirms against the bedding, trying to find some relief for his aching hardness. He hears Dean rummaging about in his suitcase, and then hears the squeak of springs as Dean shifts into place behind Castiel. A bottle snaps open and something cool and slick is pressed against his puckered entrance. Castiel groans, knowing what comes next. As Dean breaches him with a lubed up finger, Castiel tries to relax, his wings beating slightly. Dean kisses the curve of his spine lightly and grasps the feathers nearest to him, tugging gently. Castiel cries out with the glorious mix of pleasure and pain.

The feeling is amazing and as Dean would say, ‘weird’ when Dean scissors his fingers, rubbing slowly at Castiel’s prostate. Dean chuckles breathlessly. “Damn, baby, you feel good.”

“I’m ready Dean.” Castiel’s voice sounds low and even harsher than usual, and Dean groans at the sound. Castiel doesn’t feel much when Dean first slides into him, but shock sends him snapping his head back in a surprised moan when Dean slams against his prostate.

“You okay?” Dean asks, his fingers carding through Castiel’s dark hair.

“Yes.” Castiel rotates his hips slightly, drawing a gasp from Dean. “You cannot hurt me, Dean.” Castiel tells him.

Dean seems to lose all control when he sinks once more into Castiel, his hips meeting Castiel in an erratic, hard beat. “Gnnn…” Dean licks at the sweat gathering at the back of Castiel’s neck as he thrusts into him, fingers raking at his shoulder blades and the sensitive part of his wings. The last straw comes when Dean lets one of his hands grip around Castiel’s cock and squeezes, while still applying pressure to Castiel’s shoulders.

“Dean!” Castiel unravels, coming in hot, milky strings into the sheets, muscles contracting around Dean’s dick.

“Fuck!” Dean barrels over the edge with a shout, collapsing against his back. It takes a moment before Dean can pull out of Castiel, and flop onto the bed beside him. Castiel rolls onto his back and presses a kiss to Dean’s stubbled chin.

“I love you, Dean.” Castiel whispers.

“I love you too, Cas baby.” Dean laughs, still panting. “Shit, that was even better than last time.”

“I agree.” Castiel laughs softly.

“I love when you laugh.” Dean says, his green eyes on Castiel.

Castiel cocks his head at Dean. “Should I do it more?”

“Definitely.” Dean smirks and lazily rubs Castiel’s nipple with an index finger.

Castiel lets his head drop back and sighs, as Dean fits his mouth over one nipple, sucking and licking, his velvety tongue teasing at the bud relentlessly. His index finger circles around the other, flicking and pressing at the erect nipple. Dean kisses a trail from Castiel’s nipple down to his stomach, nipping and licking, as he strokes Castiel’s balls lightly with the tips of his fingers. “You’re perfect.” He tells Castiel, before licking a stripe up Castiel’s half-hard cock.

“Dean…” Castiel whines. He loves when Dean is like this. Playful, but intense, like Castiel is the only thing in the world that is important to him. He’s only ever seen Dean look like that when he works on his car. The utmost concentration gracing his features, paired with a profound love makes Castiel shiver when he is the focus of it.

“I love you, Castiel.” Dean says, quietly, kissing the head of Castiel’s now fully hard cock. Castiel mewls when Dean takes him into his mouth, sucking the head of the cock hard, his cheeks hollowed. Dean starts to move his hand along Castiel’s length in sharp, hard strokes, jerking him off as he licks and suckles at the head of his cock, his other hand squeezing Castiel’s balls and rubbing the stretch of skin between his ass and his balls.

It doesn’t take long for Castiel to come, and when Dean kisses him again, he tastes himself. It is bitter but he likes the way it tastes with Dean mixed in. Exhausted, Dean falls asleep right away, his snores reverberating into Castiel’s chest, an arm thrown over his waist. Castiel closes his eyes and allows his thoughts to drift. He has much to worry about. Heaven cannot find out about their love, and if they do, Castiel wonders what will become of him. Surely they would not make him be born again as a human child…he would never be able to find Dean again.

It cannot happen. Castiel stares down at Dean’s sleeping form, and steels his heart. He will not leave Dean, but he should not think of that now. Now, all that matters is him and Dean, and even if it is running away from his problems he will allow himself to enjoy the peace and love of the moment. It cannot always be this easy, but he will cherish the moments where it is easy to just let go of his concerns and relish the love he shares with Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


	12. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shit hath hit the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh...so it begins.

“One last time before we hit the road?”

“Dean, we need to leave soon. You made a promise.”

“Yeah but baby…”

“Dean, we must go.”

“C’mon…the bed’s right there.”

“We made love four times yesterday Dean, if you recall.”

“I thought it was just three.”

“We stopped at the side of the road one time.”

“Oh.”

“And we made love once more early this morning.”

“But…”

“We have a lot of driving to do-“

“You sure…I can’t…tempt…you…?”

“I….Just…oh….one…more… _Dean_ …”

“I figured you’d come around.”

“Stop talking, Dean.”

 

At the end of one wonderfully idyllic month of peace, driving and sex, Dean returns home, pulling into the familiar garage of his parents’ house in Lawrence. (He’ll never stop calling it that.) Stretching, Dean yawns and turns off the ignition. He drove all day to get back, and his muscles are cramped. His spine still hasn’t fully recovered from the highly impractical but awesome sex he and Castiel had in a tent, about two weeks ago. Dean has never been this happy in his whole life, and he had a pretty great childhood. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he leans over to kiss Castiel, never tiring of the soft, firm lips molding to his. “I love you.” He whispers, fingers toying with Castiel’s raven locks.

Castiel smiles against his lips and pulls away gently, with an almost shy smile, which Dean loves. He loves that Castiel can still be shy even when he’s a total _beast_ in bed. Chuckling at the thought, Dean got out to get his suitcase out of the boot. “Why are you laughing?”Castiel asks, head cocked to the side.

“Oh, nothing.” Dean smirks at his angel. “Just thinking about that insane thing you did with your wings where you-“

“Dean!” Sam barrels through the back door into the garage. “You’re back!”

Dean grins and ruffles Sam’s hair. Geez that kid’s getting tall. “Hey there, Sammy.”

“Who were you talking to?” Sam asks, suspicion narrowing his eyes.

“Just talking to my baby.” Dean croons, patting his Impala lovingly.

Sam rolls his eyes. “I’m going to go tell Mom you’re back, jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean calls, as Sam’s freakishly long legs take him back into the house.

Dean lowers his voice, as he turns to Castiel. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was talking to my baby.”

Castiel trails soft fingers along the line of Dean’s jaw. “I know.”

Pulling Castiel into his arms, he gives him a long, deep kiss. Castiel melts into his arms, and Dean licks into his mouth greedily. He feels Castiel suddenly freeze in his arms. Pulling back, Dean stares at the man in his arms, taking note of the way his wings are twitching and the unadulterated terror in Castiel’s eyes. He looks exactly like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Cas?” Dean begins, but Castiel shoves away from him, his eyes focused on a spot behind him. Dean spins around, but it’s empty. He and Castiel were the only ones there, as far as Dean could see. Unless…

Castiel utters a single word: “Gadreel.” Then he’s gone, ripped away, his arms out towards Dean, his wings arching high. Dean just stays frozen beside his car, eyes trained on the spot Castiel was just moments before.

“Dean?” Sam’s hand startled Dean and he whipped away, breathing a sigh of relief as he notices Sam.

“Oh, hey Sam.” Dean’s voice sounds off even to him. He clears his throat, trying to buy himself some time by dragging out his luggage. “I’ll just put these upstairs-“

Sam stops him. “No let me. Go say hi to Mom. She’s in the kitchen.”

Dean, still numb with shock, walks through the door into the hallway and turns right into the kitchen. Mom’s in a simple tee and blue jeans, her hair up in a loose bun. Dean thinks with a pang of worry, that the blue of her jeans is exactly the colour of Castiel’s tie. He has a role to play though. It’s not like he can file a missing persons report…Castiel is an angel. He can take care of himself. He’ll be back…soon. Plastering on a smile, Dean wraps his arms around his mother, inhaling her sweet lilac perfume. “Hey Mom.”

“Hi sweetie.” Mom disengages herself and turns towards Dean. “I’m making your favourite today, home-made hamburgers with mash..honey, are you okay?” She asks, her carefree smile turning to an expression of worry.

“Yeah.” Dean takes a deep breath and kisses her cheek before stepping away. “I’m just tired. And I missed you guys.” He adds.

Her face clears and she presses a palm to Dean’s face. “Did you have  good time?”

“It was awesome.” Dean tells her, with a grin. “I got you a bottle of wine, some real good stuff. And that chocolate you like.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have.” Mom gives him an impish smile. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Didn’t you get me anything?” Sam hinted, folding his gangly body into a kitchen chair.

“Sure did, Sammy. I got you a can of worms, I think it’s in the trunk somewhere.” Dean teases.

Sam flashed him a bitch-face. “Jerk. What’d you really get me?”

“Bitch. Couple of video games.”

“Boys, quit bickering and sit down. Dinner’s ready.”

Dinner with his family, the first home-cooked meal Dean’s had in a month is filled with hearty laughter and incessant teasing and bickering, at least with him and Sam. Though his mother does do her fair share of teasing.

“So, Sammy, you still being a little bitch and not asking Jess out?”

Sam turns bright red at Dean’s question. “I uh…”

“Do you like her?”

“Yes!” Sam blurts out.

“So ask her out.” Dean shrugs.

Sam gives him The Look. “I can’t just ask her out, Dean.”

“Sure you can!” Dean waves his knife.

“Your father asked me out four times before I said yes.” Mom interjects. “It was worth it.”

“Fine!” Sam glares at his nosy family. “I will. Soon. When it’s the right time.”

“Hell I had to ask Jo out twice.” Dean snickered.

“What happened between you two?” Mom asks, leaning forward.

“Yeah it’s like you guys just ended after a year.” Sam murmurs.

Dean shrugs. “It just didn’t work out. We grew apart I guess.”

“It’s a shame.” Mom chuckled. “Ever since you two started playing together, Ellen and I were entertaining the notion that someday we’d see you get married.”

Dean’s heart aches, his thoughts wandering back to Castiel. “I guess things never work out the way we think.”

“I guess so.” Mom looks at him then, almost as if she knows. But how can she know? Not only is Dean gay, he’s gay for an _angel._ That’s crazy people talk!

Dean stands up, taking his plate. “Dinner was awesome, Mom.”

“It’s good to have you back, man.” Sam claps Dean on the shoulder.

Dean heads up the stairs and changes into an old Metallica t-shirt that he lent Castiel to wear once, and a pair of boxers. The t-shirt still smells a little like Castiel, and worry turns his stomach. He misses his damn angel so much, and the concern and fear for him is tearing through his insides. Leaning back against the headboard he wonders where Castiel is, and if he’s okay. ‘Gadreel.’ Castiel said before he disappeared. Why does the name sound familiar? He remembers something about it, Castiel mentioned it once. Another angel obviously…wait a second. Didn’t Castiel say once that Sam’s guardian was an angel by the name of Gadreel? From Castiel’s garrison? Dean sits up straight. Did Gadreel rat him out? Dean feels almost physically nauseous, and he swings his legs over to dangle off the side of his bed, as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Putting his head down between his legs, he stews in his thoughts.

Is Castiel in trouble because of him?

Dean’s door squeaks open, and Dean looks up. “Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean’s voice cracks slightly, but he disguises it with a cough.

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Sam.” Dean lies, as Sam comes over to sit beside him.

“You don’t look fine, Dean.” Sam says in that voice that means ‘We’re going to talk about this whether you like it or not.’

“I am fine, Sam.” Dean says, irritably.

“Is it about Jo?” Sam sighs.

“What?” Dean’s head snaps around to look at his brother. “No, Sam, it’s got nothing to do with Jo.”

“So there is a something!” Sam says, triumphantly.

Dean stares at his brother. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“I probably won’t.” Sam assures him.

So Dean tells him, everything. He tells him about guardian angels, about God, about Castiel, and about his big gay love for his guardian.

Sam stares at him, mouth agape, disbelief and bemusement evident in his eyes. “You’re right.” He says finally. “I do think you’re crazy.”

“Dude, Sammy, you know me.” Dean runs a hand through his hair. “If it weren’t for Cas, would I know about angels, and heaven and all that shit? I mean I’m hardly the religious type.”

“There is that…”Sam allows. “But, Dean, people who say shit like that end up in mental hospitals.”

Dean groans. He does not want to do this, but…He shoves his t-shirt up his body and gestures to the hickey at the base of his stomach. “This is from when we had sex this morning.”

“Dean…” Sam bites his lip, obviously half mortified and half incredulous. “That could’ve been from anyone. What if this is just some stalker guy who’s pretending to be angel?”

“Sam.” Dean rolls his eyes. “He never ages, he knows all about heaven and God, you’ve never seen him even though he’s been around my whole life, and oh, did I mention? He’s got fucking wings!”

Sam pauses, before speaking hesitantly. “Have you considered schizophrenia?”

“I did.” Dean sighs. “Look man, if you don’t believe me, fine. I’m just saying, I ain’t making this stuff up, and I’m not hallucinating. I need you to just try to understand.”

“So he just vanished?”

Dean nods. “Apparently it’s against the rules for him to have a romantic relationship with me.”

Sam is quiet for a moment. “I guess he’s back in heaven then. I mean broken rules equal punishment right?”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his temple. “Shit Sam. I never wanted him to get into trouble…”

Sam wraps his arms around Dean. “Don’t blame yourself man. It was just as much his choice as yours. I mean if he really is an angel, then I think he could’ve stopped it if he wanted to.”

Dean laughs. “He’s the best angel there is.”

Sam pulls away, a curious light in his eyes. “You know Mom and I were talking about you?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you seemed different when you left. You weren’t the same after Dad died, and the day after graduation, you seemed…lighter. Like everything was off your shoulders you know?”

“That was the day I kissed Cas.” Dean smiles, fondly.

“Well, he seems good for you.” Sam says thoughtfully. “Wow. Angels huh.”

“Yep. Freakin’ angels man.” Dean shakes his head. “You probably still think I’m insane.”

“Seriously Dean, after all you’ve told me, I want to think you’re insane…but I just can’t. It seems way too unreal, but I think I can believe it.”

“You believe me?” Dean asks hopefully.

“Yeah.” Sam smiles, though his forehead scrunches up. “I guess I do.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated!


	13. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a lot of pain...and longing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I balked at the thought of writing this. And as I began, I had to take frequent breathers and read fanfic full of schmoop to maintain my usual happiness. Le sigh. I’m sorry Dx

There is a single place in Heaven no angel speaks of. Some say Michael created it when Lucifer fell, so that he could weed out the traitors among them. It’s a large marble structure, much like the old temples, except without an altar. It’s more of a throne room, with a single opulent throne at the centre, shackles attached to the arms and legs. It is simply by common assent that no one talks about it. It’s been whispered that Michael used it to torture angels into submission. Lucifer had in fact a great following, but only six other angels followed him into the fires of Hell. Most were….re-programmed. It’s always been there, and as far as Castiel knows, it hasn’t been used since the time of Satan and the Princes of Hell.

“Castiel.” Michael looks down at him, sorrow on his face. Castiel almost believes the emotion is genuine as two other angels snap the shackles into place. The metal melds together when the angels mutter a few choice words. Old Enochian magic. Few humans have discovered its full extent. Only an angel can wield its power in its entirety.

Castiel smiles sweetly up at Michael. “I believe I go by the name Cas now, Michael.” He’s learnt a few things from Dean.

Michael rises to the bait, scowling, great white wings aflame. “You broke the rules, Castiel.” Castiel just looks at Michael. He still wears the white linen robes of the Roman era, complete with the sandals.

“I was unaware that love was a sin.” Castiel spits, his own wings unfolding, to give the impression of size. Not that that is going to work, given that Michael has the biggest wings of all the Archangels.

“You are not to fall for a human, Castiel.” Michael’s eyes are cold with fury. “If you would like, take a mate, in heaven. But this is unacceptable.”

“I do not want a mate.” Castiel says. “I want Dean.”

“You cannot have him, Castiel, brother listen to me.” Michael is pleading now, his voice lowered. “You are not to blame, you are young and inexperienced and it seems this human has seduced you with his charms. It will be taken care of and you will be a Power once more. I command you to give up this silly _love_ of yours and take the truly righteous path as all angels must.”

“I am in love with Dean Winchester.” Castiel says loudly. “That is the only righteous path I know.”

Michael draws himself up and folds his wings into his back, as does Castiel. “As you wish. You will suffer the consequences.”

Another angel moves into Castiel’s line of vision as Michael turns away, placing his palm over Castiel’s forehead. He shoots Castiel a sympathetic look, and begins to murmur the words of an old Enochian spell, that Castiel does not recognize. Castiel is surprised at the first flashes of pain, or he supposes more surprised at the weakness of it. He barely registers it in the beginning. Then it starts to build, like rolling a snowball in more snow.

At its peak, pain like no other bursts in Castiel’s head and he screams. Something liquid flows from Castiel’s closed eyes, down his cheek. It isn’t water, it’s too viscous for that. There’s a pricking sensation behind his eyeballs and it’s not getting duller, but more and more pronounced. The throbbing in his head, growing larger and larger, the Enochian swilling through his head, dropping like lead in his gut was all too much. Castiel would have thrashed if only he even had the energy to move his muscles. More thick fluid pours out of his nose, and drips into his lip. He tastes it, rich, coppery and bitter, identifying it as blood. His head feels like it’s spontaneously combusting within his skull. There is too much power being compressed into his head and the anguish is close to unbearable. Finally, the palm leaves his head, and the pain fades.

Castiel rasps for air, head drooping forward, so his chin rested on his chest. Everything submerges in darkness, and he passes out.

When he comes to, he’s alone. He has no concept of time, and how long he’s been here. The itchy feeling of caked and dried blood on his chin and cheeks is nagging at him, but he closes his eyes, leans back and tries to relax. There is still a dull ache in his head but otherwise he’s fine. He doubts this is the end though. Enochian magic has many uses when it comes to torture. Castiel guesses the worst part is that they will not and cannot kill him. They prefer to leave him stewing in the ache and misery.

Castiel thinks of Dean. He remembers his face so clearly. He remembers the loving, open green eyes. He remembers the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. He remembers the sound of Dean’s laugh, and the feel of Dean’s lips on his. He remembers the surprised wonder on Dean’s face when he reaches orgasm, and the quiet love in his face when he looks at Castiel. He remembers the light spattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose. He remembers the way Dean bites his lip when he’s nervous, and the way he crooks his eyebrow when he’s confused or being sarcastic. He remembers Dean’s voice when he sings AC/DC at the top of his lungs. He remembers Dean’s easy smile when he drives his Impala. He remembers every crucial detail about Dean and it hurts more than any Enochian spell.

Castiel misses Dean more than anything, and being away from him is the worst imaginable torture. Tears spill from Castiel’s sore eyes, down his cheeks. He takes shuddering, gasping breaths and weeps for the man he has left behind, and the heartbreak he is surely causing. He weeps for the angels and for God, and his absence. He weeps for rules that are broken and promises that cannot be kept. Most of all, he weeps for himself, for he is away from the one he loves, and he may never see Dean again. An immortality without Dean makes him sick. So he weeps.

It isn’t long before Michael is back in the room, with its marble fixtures and gold and red curtains. “Have you broken yet?” His voice nudges Castiel, almost kindly. “Castiel, you have made a mistake. Simply admit it, and we will welcome you back into our fold.”

“I have made no mistake.” Castiel grits out. He could never take back his love for Dean. He would rather live through all the torture Michael has to offer him before he did any such thing.

“Your brothers are waiting for you Castiel. Do not shame us.” Michael hisses before he leaves, and Castiel groans as another angel makes his way into the room. Castiel takes no notice of him, only understands what is to happen. He sees no need to know who is torturing him.

“I am sorry brother.” The nameless angel whispers, but Castiel says nothing. Soon words of Enochian surround him and he’s in a trance.

He feels his grace begin to pulse. It’s vaguely uncomfortable, but begins to get downright tormenting as it begins to expand. Castiel grips the arms of the throne that he occupies, as some kind of mockery, he guesses. His grace transforms within him, as if it is trying to burst through his shell. Castiel cries out, as his grace pummels against his body, like tiny pins pricking into him from the inside. The Enochian chants get louder and louder, his grace pulses and throbs, expanding with the volume of the spell. Castiel screams himself hoarse, sobbing and thrashing his wrecked body, trying in vain to lessen the sheer agony. His grace continues pressing against his flesh trying to get out, to free itself from the angel.

Castiel refuses to beg for release.

After an eternity, the ordeal ends, but Castiel feels spent. The lowest trick is to use an angel’s grace against him. Those Enochian spells were banned millennia ago, yet Castiel feels the evidence of their use in his grace. Dean would call it ironic, that his grace which was moments ago, tearing him apart from the inside, is now roaming through his body, healing and soothing. Castiel wishes it wouldn’t. There is no point in it, he is only going to hurt again, but there is no energy left for Castiel to subdue it, so he lets it work, falling into a red-tinged haze. He misses Dean sorely, but he has no energy left for the moment to think of him. Dean is all that’s keeping his willpower up, but Castiel wants to sleep for a very very long time, and one does not need to be an angel with an endless fount of knowledge to know that that is not a very good sign at all.

Days go by; Castiel has no way of knowing. The Enochian magic being used on him increases in intensity, and the length of the torture sessions increases every day. There is no real pattern. Some days they’ll torture him three or four times, other days they’ll leave him completely alone. There is no solace in his traitorous thoughts - that tell him God is nowhere to be found, and Dean might be dead or have moved on for all he knows. He prays every day, unwilling to relinquish the belief that his Father has not forsaken him, but no help arrives.

Michael stares down at him in faux pity. “Brother, is Dean Winchester really worth all this trouble? Is he really worth giving up your own kin?”

Castiel looks up at Michael, blood dripping down his chin. Spitting on the pristine floor, Castiel answers. “He is worth all I have and more. I have committed no wrong, Michael.”

“You broke a rule, Castiel.” Michael’s righteous wrath lifts his wings in a glorious array of white.

“A rule that seems to be archaic and foolish.” Castiel retorts, with a ‘bitch face’, a look he learnt from Sam.

Michael slaps him hard, and the sound of his palm cracking across Castiel’s cheek echoes around the hall.

“You will regret this Castiel.” Michael thunders, before sneering at Castiel. “Look at you, broken and bloodied, all for what? A mere _mud-monkey_.”

Castiel doesn’t bother replying. Michael is already gone. Sighing, he cants his head forward, waiting for the grace to stop the flow of blood to a trickle. Soon, he’s mostly patched up, but the constant bruising and healing cycle, as well as dampening the effects of the Enochian magic are getting to him. Sooner or later, he is going to be unable to heal himself adequately, and he’s already losing the ability. He still feels sore, and his nose is still determinedly leaking blood. Castiel’s just about ready to entertain the notion that he might be stuck here for another couple millennia at least, when a quiet musical voice calling his name captures his attention. He sits bolt upright, almost scared to believe.

“Anna?” He whispers into the tomb-like silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated! :D


	14. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's trying to get used to Cas' absence, but it's hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a lot of ache and angst. Goddammit.

“You look awful.” Sam comments, rather unnecessarily in Dean’s opinion. He _feels_ awful.

“I’m worried about Cas.” Dean mutters in reply, running a hand through his mussed hair. He hasn’t bothered with getting it cut the past few months, and it’s grown rather shaggy, flopping over his head.

“Dude.” Sam is concerned. Dean has to admit it’s within good reason, but he’s just not in the mood.

“Don’t Sammy.” Dean warns. They’re hanging out in Bobby’s kitchen, both nursing cups of coffee. Sam came by to see him on Dean’s break. He throws himself into work a lot, ever since Castiel vanished, which was about three months ago.

“Dean, look at you.” Sam says, exasperated. “Mom’s getting worried. She wants me to talk to you.”

“Yeah well it’s not like I can tell her my angel boyfriend just flew on me right?” Dean snaps.

“Yeah, but you could tell her a story just as close.” Sam hints.

“Are you saying I should lie to our mother?” Dean rolls his eyes.

“Yes.” Sam says shortly.

“So what do you say I tell her?”

“Tell her you met someone in…I don’t know…somewhere really far away?” Sam mumbles.

“Like heaven?” Dean jokes.

“I’m serious!” Sam frowns. “Tell her you met someone in uh…Louisiana! Skip out on details.”

“That could work.” Dean sighs. “Why do I even have to tell her anything?”

“Because when you pine, you’re a total dick, Dean. It’s kinda obvious.”

“Bitch.” Dean grumbles, swigging the last of his black coffee.

“Jerk.”

Dean takes his advice though, and as he helps his mother wash the dishes in the kitchen that night, he waits for her to broach the subject as delicately as she can. She does not disappoint.

“Honey, is everything okay?”

Dean takes a rinsed plate from her and sets it in the dishwasher. “I guess.”

“You just seem sort of sad lately.” She says, gently.

Oh what the hell. He takes the bait. “Yeah well, Mom, truth is, I met someone.”

“But that’s great!” Trust Mom to be supportive. “Why the long face then?”

“Because he’s all the way in Louisiana.”

“Oh, wait, he?”

“Yeah. I’m uh…I’m gay I guess.”

“So that’s why you and Jo didn’t work out?”

Dean stares at her. He just told her he was gay. How was she so cool with it? “Uhm yeah….”

Mom gazes at him sympathetically while washing and drying her soapy hands. Then she pulls him into a hug. “I’m sorry sweetie. This stuff is always hard. Did you fall in love with him?”

Dean’s heart aches and his eyes prick. He hates lying to Mom and all he really wants right now is comfort. In that way, he’s a little kid inside. “Yeah. He’s amazing Mom. You’d really like him and so would Sam. He’s kind of a geek, and he knows a lot, but he doesn’t know shit about pop culture, I mean I had to tell him about Lord of The Rings, but Mom I love him and he’s so far away and I don’t know what to do…” Oh god, he was blabbering like a tween girl. Fuck. What is it about Mom that makes him get like this?

As he blubbs on her shoulder, Mom rubs soothing circles into his back. He’s taller and bigger than she is, but he feels like the ten year old he was not too long ago in her arms. “I’d love anyone you bring home hon.” Mom kisses his forehead. “I don’t care that you’re gay at all.”

“Thanks Mom.” Dean wraps his arms tighter around his mother and buries his face in her shoulder. He misses the way it used to be. Whenever he scraped his knees, he’d run to Mom and let her kiss the pain away. Castiel was always there, but when it came to comfort he always turned to his mother first. If only it was that easy now. If only his problems were limited to scraped knees and elbows, instead of broken hearts. Either way, it’s a long time before he pulls away.

Every night, it’s hard to sleep. Dean tosses and turns, unable to sleep. In a way it’s productive. By day he works on cars in Bobby’s auto-shop, and by night, he reads about ancient philosophy, which he’s taken an interest in. Barely any information remains on pre-Socratic philosophers, and sometimes he wishes he could call Castiel up and ask him about it. His longing barrels into him at the most inconvenient times and places.

One day, he’s in a random diner, just on the outskirts of Lawrence for Sunday lunch with Mom and Sam, when he orders a cheeseburger with a side of bacon, just like Castiel liked. He doesn’t realize it until the waitress plops his food down in front of him, and countless memories of sitting in the motel with Castiel, gorging on fast food. Castiel always ordered the same thing; that angel loves cheeseburgers. Luckily no one notices him wipe away a tear surreptitiously before he picks up his cheeseburger.

Another time, he’s going Christmas shopping in the clothes aisle, and he spots a tie that is exactly the colour of Castiel’s eyes. It’s sky blue but a little darker and textured. He buys it without a thought. Maybe Castiel will come home for Christmas this year. He needs to have a present for him just in case. He rubs his fingers along the tie, and hangs it up in his wardrobe. Castiel will be back. He has to be back.

At Christmas dinner, knowing how upset Dean still is, Mom makes cinnamon apple pie, Dean’s favourite. As Dean cuts an extra slice for himself at 3AM in the morning, when everyone’s asleep and he’s feeling peckish, he thinks about how he and Castiel shared pie from every diner they ever stopped at in the Impala. He squeezes his eyes shut, and heaves a shuddering sigh, refusing to let himself cry. Opening his eyes with a renewed sense of determination, he tells himself there is no point in grieving. Why mourn when Castiel will be back? Allowing himself a small smile at the thought, Dean piles ice cream on his pie and takes it to the living room to watch late Christmas specials.

Dean gets mad while watching Brokeback Mountain, screaming at Ennis not to leave Jack when he could so easily be with him. After all, it’s not as if they’re dimensions apart. Sam is scandalized.

Sam makes him watch The Notebook and he teases Sam mercilessly for being a giant girl, but inside his heart aches and he misses Castiel. He’ll be back, he continues to tell himself. Castiel always comes back.

Dean holes himself up in his room at the end of one year and watches Life is Beautiful. Sam refuses to watch any more movies with him, and this is good because at the end of it, the dam breaks. Dean grabs a pillow and bites into it as he sobs. Castiel is never coming back.

A year and a half drags by and on a usual work day, Dean meets a stranger passing through Lawrence. He’s working alone in Bobby’s Auto-Shop. Both Bobby and Rufus have taken the Saturday off, and Bobby called in a favour from Dean, so he’s stuck working on a Saturday. Dean’s puttering about in the engine of a silver Honda belonging to one of Dean’s neighbours and he’s pretty much done with it. He locks up the car, and looking up, he notices a man hovering at the entrance of the garage. He’s dressed in a button down black shirt and jeans. Dean raises an eyebrow at him.

“Can I help you?”

“Um, I need to get my car looked at.” The stranger smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry, you were working and I didn’t want to disturb you.” He moves forward, and Dean’s breath catches. He has blue eyes. Not the intense, vivid cobalt of Castiel’s irises, but still a lovely pale blue.

Dean grins. “No problem.” He hangs up the keys to the Honda by Bobby’s desk, and walks out to where the stranger’s car is parked.

After a quick discussion about the car’s carburetor, the conversation moves on to the various perks of engine oil, and the effectiveness of Armor-All on genuine leather.

“You sound pretty versed on cars.” Dean asks curiously, as he pulls a rag from the back pocket of his jeans, and wiped his hands. “Why didn’t you just do it up yourself?”

The other man laughs sheepishly. “You caught me out. I really just came in here for some engine oil. Then I saw you, and my mind just stopped working I guess.”

Dean flirts with pretty much everyone, but he’s never actually considered coming onto someone before. Not since Castiel anyway.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to have your car checked out by a professional once in a while.” Dean smirks.

A smile slowly spreads across the man’s face, and he holds out his hand. “The name’s Kyle.”

“Dean. I would take your hand, but I’m kinda greasy.”

Kyle laughs, his blue eyes crinkling with warmth. “Gotcha.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he clears his throat. “So hey, I’m going to be in Lawrence for the night, so do you want to grab some dinner across the street later?”

“I get off in about three hours. I’ll close up and meet you in the diner?” Dean asks.

Kyle nods. “See you later Dean.” Dean notes the way his heated gaze travels all the way up his body before he turns to leave. Dean gulps. He knows what he’s getting himself into, and he kind of wants it. Part of him screams, as he gets back to work, that he’s betraying Castiel, but Dean quashes it. Castiel is not going to be back, and Dean needs a one night stand. He needs to move on. At least that’s what he’d going to tell himself. It has nothing to do with the fact that Kyle has blue eyes. Nothing whatsoever.

Dinner is a fairly quiet affair, nothing too wonderful. There’s no immediate emotional connection, but it’s not necessary. Dean knows both he and Kyle know exactly how the night is going to end and that’s really all Dean wants. If Kyle had suggested skipping dinner in lieu of other more exciting activities, he still would’ve gone along with it.

By the time they get to Kyle’s motel, Kyle’s hand is already on his ass, and Dean is mouthing at his neck as he fumbles with the door. The door shuts behind them, and Kyle maneuvers him to the bed. Dean feels something solid knock against his knees and falls back heavily against the softness of the motel bed. Kyle lands heavily on top of him, knocking the wind out of Dean and he wheezes.

“Shit sorry!”

Dean chuckles a little breathlessly. “That’s okay.”

Kyle kisses him. It’s nice but not great. It’s a little too wet and sloppy, even though Kyle seems pretty experienced. It’s not the way Castiel did it, slightly hesitant but dry and probing. Dean ignores that though and groans when Kyle palms his dick through his jeans. Kyle pulls Dean’s jeans down so that they tangle around his legs and reaches for the lube on the bedside table. Kyle isn’t patient and caring in the way he prepares Dean. He’s hurried, but it still feels pretty damn good. All Dean can do is focus on his blue eyes, and pretend that’s Castiel. He moans as Kyle adds a third finger, brushing up against his prostate, while he laps at the crown of his dick.

“Do it.” Dean growls, and Kyle obliges, undoing his jeans, rolling on a condom and thrusting into Dean. It hurts at first. Castiel used to push in slowly and steadily, letting Dean get  used to the feel of his cock stretching him, but Kyle starts ramming in as soon as he bottoms out. He hits against Dean’s sensitive prostate again and again while jerking Dean off, and very soon, Dean is coming all over his stomach. His ass clenches, and soon Kyle’s coming as well.

Kyle pulls out, and pulls off the condom, tying it and throwing it into the wastepaper basket beside the door. Dean sits up, and looks around, spotting a tissue dispenser. Grabbing some, he cleaned the sticky liquid off his stomach, and off his ass, while Kyle buttons himself up. They grin at each other as Dean does up his jeans.

“Um, thanks, I guess.” Dean mumbles as he stands around awkwardly.

“Do you want to stay the night?” Kyle asks, but Dean can tell he’s asking out of politeness.

“Nah, I gotta get back.” Dean declines.

“Right, sure.” Kyle nods, and Dean gives him a strained smile, and lets himself out.

Dean walks out, feeling strangely empty, instead of satiated. He remembers the name he’d mouthed as he came.

_Cas._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


	15. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit continues to go down, but Anna is awesome xD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support! Love you all. This was yet another difficult chapter to write, but don’t worry, there’s a happy ending in sight, though it may not be exactly what you’re expecting xD

“Castiel!” Anael is stricken, her lovely wings the colour of fire, shaking.

“Anael.” Castiel stares up at her, wondering if this is a trick or some kind of magic to make him break.

Anael reaches out slender fingers, wiping away the blood dripping down Castiel’s chin. She presses two fingers to his forehead, and Castiel immediately feels better, as Anael’s grace washes through him. She hovers her palms over the cuffs restraining Castiel and they recede across his skin.

“Thank you, Anna.” Castiel tells her gratefully.

“What happened to you, Castiel!” Anael asks, stroking Castiel’s cramped up and disarrayed feathers.

“Dean.” Castiel begins. “I must find him.”

“Castiel…”

“We must leave here, Anna, it is not safe.”

Anael stares at him a moment, as if she is convinced Castiel has somehow gone rogue. Castiel is much too weak to ‘work his mojo’ as Dean might say, and he looks to her, trying to convey his fear and weariness through his eyes.

She inhales deeply, and places her hand in Castiel’s. A moment later, they are at the side of a dusty road. It is completely deserted and Castiel guesses it is some kind of side road, because it is not nearly big enough to be an interstate highway.

“Tell me everything, Castiel.” Anael demands. So he does.

She unfolds her wings when he’s done, and gives them a quick shake, pulling up dust from the road. Castiel stares at her, and her eyebrows furrow.

“So you are in love with Dean Winchester?” Anael asks. Castiel confirms it with a nod.

“That’s why they held you captive?”

Another nod.

“Oh, Castiel.” Anael shakes her head. “What will you do?”

“I must find Dean.” Castiel says.

“Heaven will know where you are Castiel.” Anael says. “What are you going to do, if they try to take you away again.”

Castiel has considered this. “I will always try to make my way back to Dean. It matters not how many times they take me away. My path will always lead back to Dean.”

Anael embraces him. “I wish you luck. You really do love him, I can see it.”

Castiel closes his eyes briefly, but then pulls away. “You must go.”

Anael nods. “I cannot stay away for long. Goodbye Castiel.” She touches her forehead to his, then vanishes.

Castiel stands there, evaluating the state of his grace. It needs time to heal, and he is in no way able to fly to Dean’s house. He knows where it is though, and the road trip with Dean taught him a lot about how travel works. He could perhaps walk along the road and try to find a ride from somewhere. Castiel begins to walk along the long, dusty path, not really taking note of the surroundings, but wondering if Dean is at his parents’ house. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get all the way to Lawrence. He can walk; he won’t get tired. If anything, Castiel is determined to get back to Lawrence, and back to Dean.

His grace is much too tarnished to fly large distances, and Castiel doesn’t know what Michael is going to do when he finds out Castiel has escaped. He gets his answer soon enough. As he walks along, trench coat rippling around his calves, Anael appears in front of him.

“Castiel, I don’t have any time, you must listen carefully.” She tells him, her wings fluttering wildly in a panic.  “Michael knows that you escaped. He does not know that I helped you, but his wrath is great, Castiel. He is going to cut you off.”

“Cut me…off?” Castiel cocks his head to the side.

“You will not be an angel any longer, Castiel.” Anael whispers. “I can feel your grace disappearing. I do not have much time, tell me where Dean Winchester lives.”

Castiel tells her the exact address, and Anael places her arms around him. “Good luck brother.” She murmurs, and Castiel’s alone in front of Dean’s house. The familiar whitewashed exterior calls to him like an old friend, and Castiel, exhausted, collapses to his knees. He can feel his grace seeping out of his very bones. Castiel feels like sleeping for a very long time. He uses the last vestiges of his grace to get into the locked house and slowly makes his way up the empty house to Dean’s bedroom. Dean’s cologne and his scent swirl within the room, comforting and painful all at once. Pulling off his coat, he folds it and places it on his rocking chair, then does the same with his shirt and pants. In Dean’s closet, he finds his favourite Metallica t-shirt that smells of Dean and pulls it on over his head. It’s a little big for him, but the cotton is soft and it’s comfortable. Pulling back the duvet, he crawls into the warmth of Dean’s bed.

Storm clouds gather outside the window and a clap of thunder sounds from the skies. Rain begins to fall, slapping against the glass softly, a lulling rhythm. Castiel closes his eyes and curls up, his head supported by the pillow. Breathing deeply, he slips into his dreams.

_“Castiel.” God looks down at him kindly. “You have done well, my son.”_

_“Father.” Castiel cries out. “Why did you leave me?”_

_“It was necessary.” God tells him. White light obscures him, but Castiel can make out the figure of a shorter, slim man. “I was always looking out for you, child.”_

_“You sent Anael.” Castiel murmurs, eyes wide._

_“I will keep you and Dean safe. The time has almost come.” God assures him, then there is nothing but light, and Castiel is drifting. The light is warm and it pulsates around him. He feels like he is flying in this bright nothingness, and it feels wonderful. It feels like being in his Father’s arms once more, and Castiel relishes the long forgotten sensation of utter peace and forgiving love._

_“Cas!” A faraway voice calls to Castiel, and he rises up._

_“Dean?” He calls back, the light throbbing faster and faster._

“Cas!” Something starts shaking Castiel and he opens his eyes to green eyes directly above him. Arms gather him in, holding him tight, and the thing starts to cry brokenly.

“Dean?” Castiel is suddenly alert and he wraps his arms around his charge. Finally, Dean relinquishes him, eyes red, cheeks flushed.

“Cas. Holy shit. Where the fuck have you been?”

Castiel tells him about the throne room, and the torture. He describes his escape. When Castiel has finished talking Dean is quiet. He is more beautiful than Castiel remembers, and Castiel joyfully reaches out to pull him into an embrace but Dean flinches.

“Dean?” Castiel falters.

“It’s been two years Cas.” Dean says, quietly, biting his lip. “I’m so sorry.” Silent tears slide down Dean’s freckle spattered cheeks. “I’m an awful person.”

Castiel is baffled. He thought Dean would be happy to see him… “Dean, what is wrong?”

“I slept with someone.” Dean blurts out. “Not just one, a couple people. One night stands, Cas, they didn’t mean anything to me, I’m so sorry.”

Castiel doesn’t know what to say, or think. He cannot blame Dean for his infidelity, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Something in his chest aches, and Castiel doubles up, letting his wings wrap around him.

“Cas, don’t leave, please.” Dean whispers. “I love you…I’m so sorry…”

“I cannot leave.” Castiel’s voice is carefully emotionless. “I will not be an angel for much longer.”

“What?” Guilt is written clearly on Dean’s face, and Castiel is too lost in his own grief to offer solace.

“I have rebelled, and I have fallen.” Castiel lifts his eyes to Dean’s. “For you.”

“Fuck, Cas…I” Dean chewed on his lip, but Castiel stopped him with a raised palm.

“Dean, I love you. It does not matter to me.” Castiel reaches forward, grasps Dean’s face in his hands and kisses him. Dean melts into him without a word, pulling Castiel into his lap.

“I love you so much, Cas. I missed you so much.” Dean says against Castiel’s lips. Castiel knows it to be true.

“I will never leave you again.” He promises.

“Come on.” Dean grins after a long time spent in each others’ arms. “I’ve got pie, and we can put on a movie. How about City of Fallen Angels? You like that one don’t you?”

Castiel kisses Dean’s lips chastely. “That sounds wonderful, Dean.”

They padded through the empty house to the kitchen, hand in hand. Castiel lay back on the couch with his head in Dean’s lap while Dean ate pie and kissed him during intervals. Castiel watches Dean’s soft moan of pleasure as he wraps his lips around a pie and ice cream laden fork, and smiles. He feels like he can stay like this forever, and never get bored.

Dean finishes up, and Castiel moves his head so that Dean can put his plate back in the kitchen. He closes his eyes, and listens to the actors’ dialogue and savours the delicious contentment spreading through him. He only opens his eyes when he feels a heavy weight shift the couch and smiles at Dean who has somehow managed to climb on top of Castiel.

Dean lowers his head and presses soft lips to Castiel, a palm splayed out on his chest. Soft fingers play through Castiel’s locks, and Dean groans when he swipes his tongue against the inside of his charge’s mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this for the past two years.” Dean mumbles. “Thought of touching you, kissing you.” Dean licks down the column of Castiel’s neck. “Tasting you. You taste so damn good Cas.”

“Dean…” Castiel moans when Dean nips at his collarbone. “Upstairs…”

Dean slips his hands under Castiel and lifts, while Castiel wraps his legs around Dean’s waist.

Dean carries him upstairs, depositing him on the bed. Another concern hits Castiel. “What about….Sam…and your mother?” Castiel gasps as Dean lifts his shirt, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of his stomach.

“Gone out. They’ll be home late tonight.” Dean says in a hurry as he strips. He gets out the lube and slicks up his erection. He moves forward and takes Castiel in his mouth, sucking hard before he pulls off with a pop. Castiel moans, fingers digging into the duvet.

“I love you.” Castiel tells him as Dean plunges into him.

Dean brushes Castiel’s hair away from his forehead and kisses his temple. “I love you.” Then he starts to move, and Castiel forgets everything.

They break apart, eyes shut, when Castiel feels the soft brush of down against his fingers. He hears Dean gasp in shock.

“Cas…”

He sits up and as he looks around, his heart sinks. His feathers are strewn everywhere, a kaleidoscope of violet, indigo, and inky blue littering Dean’s floor. His grace is completely gone; there is nothing left.

“I’m not an angel anymore Dean.” He says calmly, and Dean holds him close.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't edit >.


	16. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finally meets the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I am soooooo sorry I haven’t been able to update for so so long!! Goddamnit, school has started once more, and it’s been CRAZY the first week; I haven’t been able to get anything done! Sorry for the wait, and I hope you enjoy this one. Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, but I’m sorry if you’ll have to wait another week for it :(

The feathers disappear within the hour, and it’s getting dark outside. Mom and Sam are going to be home any minute now, and he needs to prepare Castiel to meet them. They’re sitting cross-legged on Dean’s bed and Dean’s trying to give Castiel all the knowledge he can possibly impart to a being that has lived for millennia but never tasted a cheeseburger up until a few years ago.

“So tell me your cover again?” Dean quizzes.

“I do not understand.” Castiel cocks his head. “Why must I lie?”

Dean heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Cas, we’ve been over this. You can’t tell them the truth. You can tell Sam, but that’s it, okay? Or they’re going to send you to a mental asylum.” Dean narrows his eyes. “You don’t wanna be taken away from me again do you?”

Castiel’s eyes flash and Dean’s feels tendrils of guilt curling around his stomach at having to use Castiel’s greatest fear to manipulate him, but at this point, it’s absolutely necessary. There is no way Castiel will be able to survive out there if he doesn’t figure out how to lie about where he’s from and try to live normally, for the moment at least.

“I will never leave you ever again, Dean.” Castiel presses a palm to Dean’s cheek, and places the other hand over his heart. “You have my word.”

“Good.” Dean sighs and relaxes into Castiel’s touch, smiling when Castiel lets his hand drift to Dean’s chest and spreads out over his heart. “Now tell me, what’s your cover?”

“My name is Castiel James.” Castiel continues reciting perfunctorily, his eyes staring straight into Dean’s. “I am 23 years old, my family died, and so I came looking for you from Baton Rouge, Louisiana.”

Dean nods. “Sounds good. The trick is to not get too much into details. Just tell my Mom that your mother died when you were a little kid, and your father just died, so you decided to come looking for me, and all that jazz.”

“What has music got to do with anything?” asks Castiel, confused. D’awww…Dean chuckles, reaching over to muss Castiel’s hair. His emotions are starting to show more on his face, and Dean is trying to get used to not looking for wings when he looks at his former angel.

Dean doesn’t bother replying, just leans in and gives him a long kiss, tender and sweet, with just a little tongue, the way he knows Castiel likes.

“I love you.” Dean assures Castiel lightly kissing both his eyelids. “And they’ll love you too. Don’t worry.”

“Dean!” Sam chooses that exact moment to gallop through Dean’s unfortunately unlocked door, holding up the latest Assassin’s Creed game. “I just-“ Sam’s jaw drops and he just stands there, stupidly staring at the sight Dean and Castiel sitting on his bed, lips red, in various states of undress.

Dean would find this hilarious, if he wasn’t so worried about other more pressing issues. He would tease Sam later on how much he looked like a gorilla on steroids later, but for now, he needed to act. Getting up, Dean ushers his brother inside, and closes and locks the door. Folding his arms over his bare chest, he stares Sam down.

Still open mouthed, Sam turns to Castiel, who is pretty much dressed, sans pants and trenchcoat. Finally Sam looks down, then looks at Dean again and seems to have gained control of himself. “I think you guys need to get dressed.” He says, then walks out, video game in hand, and closes the door behind him. Dean smirks at the closed door for a second then shrugs and passes Castiel his pants.

Five minutes later, the three of them are seated in Dean’s room, and Castiel and Sam are having a staring contest. Dean sighs, watches them size each other up for a moment, then decides to interrupt.

“Sammy, Castiel. Castiel, Sam.” Dean gestures to each of them in turn, then points at himself. “I believe you all know Dean.”

Sam rolls his eyes, then starts. “Castiel? _The_ Castiel? The angel?”

Castiel nods. “Yes, I was an angel.”

“Was?” Sam frowns.

“I fell.” Castiel says shortly, eyes dark.

Dean hates seeing that look of loss and confused pain on Castiel’s face even more than he hates the guilt that weighs his heart down and taints his love. He clears his throat, and shoots a grateful glance at Sam’s change of subject.

“So what’re you telling Mom?”

“We came up with a cover.” Dean explains, placing a hand over Castiel’s. “We’re going to say Castiel’s here cause his Dad died, and he doesn’t have any family left, so he came to find me.”

“Less details, the better.” Sam says. “We don’t want to get too into it. Mom’s pretty good at weeding out lies. You remember that one time you got drunk?”

“Don’t remind me.” Dean rolls his eyes, while Sam laughs, and Castiel smiles, seemingly pleased at this brotherly bonding.

“So, Sam, how is Jessica?” Castiel leans forward, eyes fixed on Sam in that intense way he has.

Sam is caught entirely off guard, and his eyes widen. “How did you…”

“Angel.” Dean shrugs, by way of explanation. “C’mon. Mom’s probably still downstairs making dinner. We can surprise her.”

They troop downstairs, Dean leading them, and Sam bringing up the ranks. “She’s good by the way.” Sam mutters to Castiel, blushing. Castiel’s smile grows wider, and Dean lets himself be a teenage girl for once, and reaches over to squeeze Castiel’s hand, pulling him into the kitchen.

“Hey Mom.” Dean begins, as they walk in. Mom’s cutting vegetables on a chopping board at the kitchen counter, and doesn’t turn around at the appearance of her sons.

Sam clears his throat and wraps an arm around Castiel, bringing him forward. “Mom, Dean has someone he wants you to meet?”

Distractedly, Mom turns around, putting down the knife. Her eyebrows lift when she sees Castiel and she gives Dean a reproachful look. “Dean why didn’t you tell me we had a guest?”

“It was kind of unexpected.” Dean mumbles, as his Mom wipes her hands on a washcloth, and holds her hand out to Castiel. “Mom, this is Castiel. Cas, my Mom.”

Mom gives him a kind smile. “HI Castiel, please call me Mary.”

Castiel stares at her outstretched hand, and Dean bites his lip, hoping to every deity he could think of that Castiel remembers what he taught him. Suddenly, Castiel jerks his hand out and takes Mary’s gingerly, giving it a soft squeeze before releasing it. “It is truly a pleasure to meet you Mary.” Castiel says, the words slightly stiff but the words completely genuine. Dean relaxes and exchanges a relieved smile with Sam. He should’ve put more faith in Castiel; the guy was a real champ.

“So Castiel, how do you know Dean?”

Castiel casts a worried look at Dean, then gazes at Mary’s open, lovely face, seeming to gain encouragement from whatever he saw there. “We met years ago…at Baton Rouge, in Louisiana.”

Mary’s eyes clear with understanding and she shoots a cryptic look at Dean. “I see. What brings you here so suddenly?”

“My family is dead.” Castiel says vehemently, his eyes downcast and flaming. “My father is gone. There is nothing left for me there. I came to find Dean.” Dean inhales deeply, then shifts closer to Castiel, rubbing a comforting hand over his back.

“I’m so sorry. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” Mom smiles at the former angel comfortingly. “Sam, would you go make our guest comfortable? Dinner should be ready soon.”

Sam takes Castiel’s elbow and steers him out of the room, and Dean moves closer to his mother, steeling himself for the barrage of questions. Surprisingly though, Mom doesn’t ask anything out of the ordinary. “I assume he’ll be sharing your bedroom with you. Did he bring any clothes with him?”

Dean shakes his head, somewhat stunned. “No, he didn’t.”

“Go out and get him some clothes tomorrow.” Mom smiles.

“Aren’t you going to ask anything?” Dean begins, hesitantly.

“Honey, I know you boys well enough to know when you’re hiding something from me. But I see the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him, and how miserable you’ve been without him.” Mom sighs. “Whatever it is, as long as it’s nothing illegal, he’s welcome here.”

Dean shakes his head, “No, no, no, nothing illegal. Nothing like that.”

“Then it’s fine. I don’t need to know, unless you want to tell me.”

Dean rubs a hand over his face. “I wish I could tell you Mom, I really do, but…”

Mom leans up on tip-toe and presses a loving kiss to his forehead. “Dean, sweetie, don’t say a word then. That boy of yours looks exhausted, and I think above all, he needs a good night’s rest. Everything else can wait till tomorrow. You don’t need to tell me, or anyone else anything.”

“Thank you Mom.” Dean’s voice is hoarse with emotions, and he has never been eloquent or expressive even on his best days, so instead he gathers his mother into his arms and kisses the top of her head, hoping to communicate it to her, and hoping she understands.

The smile she gives him and the look in her eyes as he pulls back, tells him she does understand.

Dinner is cozy and warm, and Castiel proves to be a rather interesting dinner guest. He tells stories of mythology, both Greek and Roman, and outrageous stories of ancient philosophers. Dean has never seen Castiel laugh this much, and he can see the pain ebbing away from those limitless blue eyes. Dean feels overwhelmed with the amount of love he feels for this little family of his. It is in no way perfect: Castiel is broken and terrified, he is scared that Castiel will leave him again, Mary does not know the true situation of Castiel and Dean, and Sam has grown up without a father to see him through his graduation. However, even with all that, in their imperfections and flaws, and utter dysfunction, they are beautiful. Dean cannot imagine loving any other family more.

Dinner passes quickly, and soon bliss ekes out and old worries return at full force. Dean voices his concerns the moment he and Castiel are lying in bed, side by side, staring up at the ceiling.

“Are you ever going to be an angel again, Cas?”

Castiel shifts a little, turning his head to gaze at Dean. “I do not know, Dean.”

“Do you want to be an angel again?” Dean tries hard not to let his voice betray his true feelings, but can’t help the crack in his voice at the word ‘angel’.

“I have never been anything else, Dean.” Castiel pauses, and Dean waits, sensing that there is more. “I…I do not know what it is like to be human. I do not even know if I can become an angel ever again.”

“But given the choice…?”

“I do not know.”

And they leave it at that. But Dean’s brain still whirrs, no matter how much he wills it to quiet. He knows, deep down, that if Castiel decides to angel up again, there will never be another night like this. So he curls up, close to his lover, and prays to God for the first time in a decade, for the strength not to be selfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


	17. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is nigh. Literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is the end muchachos. I might post an epilogue, but don’t expect anything xD

Perhaps the one thing Castiel can be grateful for is the fact that the leap from angel to human is  not painful. There is no debilitating agony as his feathers slowly drift to the floor, coming to rest between the debris of his and Dean’s most recent love-making. For a moment he feels nothing. Absolutely nothing. There is no grief or relief or anything really. Just a mind-numbing blankness. Castiel, with complete calm, turns to Dean. He watches the love and wonder in Dean’s eyes drain only to be replaced by guilt and sorrow, and something foreign, almost akin to hope…

“I am not an angel anymore.” He says, testing it out in his mouth, which has dried up considerably. His voice feels lighter, less rough, as if the power in it had dissipated. He feels not-quite-whole, and there’s a slight ache in his stomach. Castiel rubs at the wetness in his eyes and nose. It takes him a moment to understand that he is crying. Dean pulls him close, and Castiel simply lays his head against the firm warmth of Dean’s chest. Castiel forgot what Dean smelt like, and he takes a moment to jog his memory, inhaling deeply. Dean smells musky, with a slight hint of soap covered by cologne. It’s a pleasant mix and Castiel revels in the familiarity of it.

Dean pulls away partly, and reaches over to pick a feather off Castiel’s shoulder. It is soft and fragile in Dean’s calloused and work-worn hand, and Castiel stares at it with a feeling of dread in his belly. He doesn’t even want to look at it, so he closes Dean’s fingers over it with his own, shaking his head.

Dean, thankfully, gets the message, snaking an arm around Castiel’s torso and tugging so that Castiel rested against him once more.

“It’s gonna be okay Cas, baby.” Dean says, in a hushed voice. Castiel can hear the dread in his voice. Dean giving comfort is strange to Castiel. For his charge’s entire life, Castiel has been the one rocking him to sleep, wiping away his tears and combing fingers through his soft hair as he cried. It brings back memories.

Dean was sick when Mary and John were in the hospital having Sam. He had a bad cold, and Castiel rocked him in his arms while he sniffled, tears leaking out of the big green eyes that stared right at Castiel. Dean had been in pain, and Castiel soothed it, singing Enochian lullabies and telling him stories until he fell asleep. Finally, Dean’s grandmother came in when dawn broke to check on him, and discovering his fever, which was in the midst of breaking, gave him a thick syrup to drink. Dean shook his head stubbornly, eyes trained on Castiel’s own and Castiel frowned, pointing an index finger at the tiny cup filled with pink fluid. Dean looked surprised for a moment as if he thought Castiel was wrapped around Dean’s little finger and would do whatever he wanted. Moments later, Dean was shuddering, an empty cup grasped in his chubby hands. Castiel awarded him with a smile, and the toddler smiled radiantly back.

Castiel sighs. Things are going to be changing rapidly from now on. It is frankly, quite terrifying.

Just when Castiel thinks Dean is about to fall asleep, he asks Castiel a very difficult question.

“Do you want to be an angel again?”

Castie can hear the worry in his voice. He honestly doesn’t know how to answer Dean’s question. He’s never lied to him before. Not once. Castiel can barely figure out what he wants himself. It’s never been an option before, to become human. Such an end has never made itself known to Castiel, but up till now, it’s always been just that: an end. But dinner with Mary and Sam and Dean gets Castiel wondering. Perhaps, it is more of a beginning than an end. Castiel cannot fathom a future like this, so he answers in the only way he can.

“I do not know, Dean.” He turns a little to look at his charge’s face, but Dean’s upturned profile is inscrutable, almost stony.

Apparently this is not enough for the man lying beside him. “Do you want to be an angel again?”

“I have never been anything else, Dean.” Again, Castiel strives not to lie. He tries to tell Dean about his conflict. “I…I do not know what it is like to be human. I do not even know if I can become an angel ever again.”

“But given the choice…?” Dean pushes.

“I do not know.” Castiel makes his answer final, his quiet gravel indicating the end of their conversation. To punctuate it, he turns away from Dean to face the now dry window. It wasn’t raining any longer, and Castiel misses the comforting sound of water tapping against the glass. It still feels cool and the duvet over Castiel’s naked skin is comfortable and welcome. For the second time today, Castiel feels a warm fog envelope him, and he drifts.

_The bright whiteness covers him again, and Castiel rubs at his eyes. “Father?” He calls out._

_“Castiel.” The quiet warmth of God’s voice is Castiel’s undoing. He sinks to his knees, and the wetness springs to his eyes, unbidden and unwanted. Castiel’s face screws up as he weeps._

_“What have I done to deserve this?” Castiel whimpers, through his tears. It is blasphemy, the height of betrayal for an angel, and Castiel knows this. He ignores it, bitterly thinking that he is no longer an angel, so it shouldn’t matter._

_God doesn’t seem to bothered by it though. “Child, you were always meant for other things. Heaven, Earth, angels, humans, what is all this? You are all creations, loved and made by me and only me. Why have you forgotten?”_

_“You’ve been missing for years.” Castiel accuses._

_“I never do things without a reason, Castiel.” God assures him. “I had plans for you, and Dean, and your arrogant, idiot brothers, up there.”_

_This provokes a surprised chuckle out of Castiel and the light pulsing around him turns loving and caring._

_“Castiel, do not restrict yourself to what you know, and what you have always known. It is not in comfort that we find happiness.”_

_“Father, when will I get home?” Castiel pleads._

_A quiet chortle resounds in Castiel’s head. “What’s home, kid?”_

Castiel jerks awake, fingers grabbing at the duvet. The first thing he looks for is Dean, who is stirring beside him.

“Cas?” Dean props himself up on his arm, gazing at him through sleep-lidded eyes. “Babe what’s wrong?”

Castiel stares at him, open mouthed for a while. Concerned, Dean sits up and moves closer, to look into his eyes uncertainly. Castiel blinks, coming out of his trance, and throws his arms around Dean, crushing his charge to him.

“ _Home._ ” Castiel mumbles into Dean’s shoulder. Pulling away, Castiel cups Dean’s face in his hands, searching his green eyes. All he sees there is love and comfort and care. Castiel knows, then, what it is he’s been missing in all the time God has been absent from heaven. “I’m home.” He whispers.

Dean lifts an eyebrow. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Yes Dean.” Castiel laughs, loud and carefree, then suddenly remembering himself and where he was, slaps a hand over his mouth, erupting into giggles.

“Uh, Cas?” Dean’s eyes widen, even as a nervous smile pulls at his mouth. “Kinda scarin’ me here.”

“Don’t be scared.” Castiel kisses Dean deeply. “I love you.” He says as he rests his forehead against Dean’s.

Dean rubs Castiel’s back. “I love you, weirdo. C’mon, I got another day off tomorrow, and I intend on sleeping in.”

As it turns out, Dean does not get the chance to sleep in. By 10 AM, Castiel rousts him out of bed to answer the door bell, as both Mary and Sam are out. Mary went grocery shopping according to the note left on the fridge, and Sam is at school, so when the bell rings cheerily through the house, Castiel’s first instinct is to nudge Dean with his foot.

Dean groans, rolling over, and off the bed, apparently having forgotten the decrease in rolling space given there were now two of them in the bed.

“Motherfuc-“

“Dean.” Castiel groans. He has discovered that he is not at all a fan of waking up in the morning. Sleep is perhaps the most wonderful of God’s gifts to humanity, and he wants to stay in this wonderful soft bed, cuddled with Dean forever. He would however compromise and stay in this wonderful soft bed, minus Dean.

“Come with me.” Dean pokes at Castiel, and since Castiel still can never refuse Dean, and Dean is an awful person who will not allow Castiel to sleep in, the former angel grumpily pulls off the covers and trails behind Dean to the front door.

“Chuck?” Dean gazes at their guest, mystified, as he opens the door.

The shorter man chuckles and looks at Castiel with such a kind benevolence, Castiel almost wonders how he missed it before.

“Father?” Castiel whispers.

“You look happy, my child.” God-Chuck murmurs, stepping forward to hug his angel. “Dean, you look well, as always.”

Dean gapes at the scene, and Castiel grasps his elbow, head bowed reverently. “Dean this is our Father.”

God-Chuck shakes his head, waving him off. “Nah, no need for that nonsense. Just call me Chuck.”

Dean seems to finally get it. “Wait, _Chuck?_ Chuckis _God?_ ”

Castiel nods gravely. “I do not know how I did not recognize you before, Father.”

God-Chuck winks. “Well, being God has its perks, Castiel.”

“If you’re God, why are you _Chuck_ of all people?” Dean blurts out, wincing when Castiel elbows him.

Chuck smirks at Dean. “Do I intimidate you?”

“No.” Dean scoffs.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

“Are you sexually attracted to me?”

Dean chokes. “No!”

God-Chuck laughs. “Well I guess you pretty much answered you own question, huh Dean?”

Dean is, for once, speechless.

“Dean, may we have a moment?” God-Chuck asks.

Nodding, Dean casts a quick glance at Castiel, who nods reassuringly, and disappears into the house. Castiel hopes he is making pancakes with extra maple syrup. Castiel likes those.

“Father.” Castiel says fervently. “I am glad to see you once again.”

“You did not follow orders, Castiel. You put Dean before all of heaven and directly disobeyed the angels I left in charge.”

Once upon a time, Castiel would’ve hung his head in shame and begged to be forgiven. Now, he holds himself high and nods. “I would do it again in a heartbeat, Father.”

“Good.” God-Chuck lets his face break out into a wide smile. “You put love first. That’s all I’ve ever taught Castiel: Love before all else. You are living proof that love trumps all, even the combined powers of all the angels in heaven.”

Castiel remains silent, unsure of how to respond.

“I plan on making you an example.” His creator continues. “You would of course, be elevated to Archangel status. Things need to change around heaven, and if hierarchy is the way to go, might as well put someone who has the right idea in charge…”

“Father.” Castiel’s stance is determined. “I do not wish to go back to heaven. You asked me what home was last night. I believe I know what it is. Home…may not be just a place. To Dean, his Impala is home, and his family is home. I hope to believe that in the same way, I am also home to him, just as he is to me. Heaven is not home to me….but Dean is, Father. I do not want to leave him ever again. And if being human with him, living a life with him, growing old with him: if that is the price to pay, I will pay it with the utmost joy. I can think of no honour higher than spending my life with Dean.” Castiel says, jaw set. He made his decision last night, and he doesn’t plan on going back on it.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” God-Chuck grins, a twinkle in his eye. “I think Anael could do with a change in post, don’t you?”

“I agree. Anael will make a fine Archangel.” Castiel smiles back.

“I’ll be keeping an eye out, Castiel.” God-Chuck steps closer, a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Never doubt that I am always beside you.”

“Goodbye Father.” Castiel closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, his Father is gone. He makes his way back into the house, closing the door behind him. Castiel inhales, the sweetness in the air making his mouth water.

“Cas!” Dean yells from the kitchen. “I got a plate of pancakes with your name on it! Extra maple syrup, just the way you like it.”

Castiel pads over to Dean and kisses his neck before happily retrieving the plate and sitting down to watch Dean flip pancakes.

He doesn’t want anything more than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so normally I’m one for schmoop, but this is the longest fic I’ve ever written and to be honest, I feel like it ended perfectly right here. Let me know in the comments if you want something schmoopy or a future epilogue thinga-ma-jiggy to end it off, but I feel like this is just right haha. Once again, this fic was dedicated to Annie, I love reading your reviews every chapter, and I hope you’ll continue to read my future fics. To all the people who’ve been reading, liking and commenting, I appreciate it! Much love <3


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